Reflections of My Former Self
by starry-oblivion
Summary: The turtles decide to vacation in California to visit their old friend, but this vacation will prove to be anything but relaxing when they encounter an old enemy. The long awaited sequel to Reflections, though it can stand on its own.
1. Chapter 1

"Oh, my aching shell."

Splinter glanced up from his book at the sound of Michelangelo's voice. His students had just returned from another night of keeping the city reasonably safe, and it seemed that the night had taken its toll on all of them. "You look weary, my sons."

Raphael glanced up at his sensei as each of his brothers stumbled in different directions. "Weary ain't the word, Master Splinter," he grumbled, throwing himself onto the sofa across from the television. He didn't even have the strength to make it to his room. Leonardo came out of the kitchen, holding a cold can of Sprite against his forehead. "I'll have to agree with Raphael on this one, Sensei. The heat wave seems to have borne a crime wave, meaning more work for us. I'm afraid that the harder we work, the more we seem to be slacking."

Donatello turned on the fan at his computer desk. "Not only that," he added, "but the closer we get to being seen by the cops and other people who shouldn't see us. Let's face it; the past week has been filled with an abundance of lose/lose situations." As Michelangelo edged his way to the television, Splinter told his pupils, "Do not despair, my sons. You are doing the best you can, and your actions do not go unnoticed."

"Right," Raphael mumbled, his words partially garbled by a sofa cushion. "I've heard _that_ song before." Grabbing the remote, Michelangelo allowed himself to drop to the ground. "You guys can keep complaining if you want," he said, though his voice sounded uncharacteristically worn out. "_I'm_ gonna catch some boob tube until my brain's too mushy to even realize the heat." Despite his exhaustion, Raphael let out a chuckle as he commented, "Oh man, I'm not even _touchin'_ that one."

"Leo," Donatello nearly whined, "seriously, I think we need a break. We're burned out. We're no good to the people we're protecting if we can hardly bear the weight of our shells." Leonardo sighed, glancing up at Splinter. "It sounds logical, but I don't know if that's just my own frustration talking or if we can actually afford to-"

"Guys!" Leonardo stopped speaking when he heard Michelangelo's frantic voice. "Guys, I just saw a giant turtle on the screen!" Confused, Donatello and Leonardo walked towards the television area, and Splinter peered up as well. Even Raphael managed to glance up from his resting spot.

On the television screen, a dark shadow shaped rather like a turtle was creeping towards an unsuspecting girl. "You don't think-" Donatello started, but was shushed by Michelangelo and Raphael. The girl on the screen appeared scared and lost. Suddenly, the deep voice of a narrator informed them, "You might be afraid of what you cannot see…." Sensing movement behind her, the girl whirled around, and the camera seemed to close in on her widened eyes and gasping mouth. "…but what about… what you cannot understand?"

The four turtles and the rat leaned in closer to the screen as the scene seemed to shift. The girl was now sitting in a makeshift living room that was not too unlike their lair. "You're… turtles," she murmured. A door closed behind her and she turned to look, spotting an anthropomorphic turtle lazily twirling a sai in his hand. "You were expectin' maybe… rats and cockroaches? Don't worry… we got plenty 'a _those _down here, too." Then, in the way most movie trailers do, a montage of explosive scenes flitted across the screen, interrupted only twice more by snappy one-liners. It wasn't the eye-candy that got these viewers interested, however. It was the fact that they had the eerie sense of watching _themselves_ on the screen. After about thirty seconds, the title screen flashed. _The Sewer Dwellers. _

It wasn't until after the title faded away and a dog food commercial took its place that the actual "sewer dwellers" broke out into conversation. "Dude," Michelangelo exclaimed, "it's Allison's movie! It's actually coming out!" Forgetting about his tiredness, Donatello went back to his computer. "I've got to get to IMDB and find out more about it!" Raphael had sat up, and Leonardo sat next to him, saying, "This is great! Hey Donnie, see if you can find her address; we need to send her some kind of congratulations!"

"Allison?" Raphael whispered, almost as though he didn't know who they were talking about. Leonardo gave him a sideways glance. Allison Grayson had avoided becoming a gruesome victim to a particularly nasty gang… by being rescued by the four of them. Moreover, it was Raphael's sarcasm that led her captor to distract himself with shooting the turtle that allowed her the means to escape. Rather than simply run home and leave it at that, she had offered to help with Raphael's wounds. To put it mildly, by the end of their encounter, she ended up with far more wounds than Raphael did. Somehow, the two of them had a strange sort of understanding towards one another, and so Leonardo had never doubted that they had not seen the last of Allison, even when a screenwriting project forced her to move to California.

"Yeah," Leonardo told his brother. "Allison Grayson. You remember." Raphael shot him an angry look, as though he had just said something truly idiotic. "Yeah, 'course I remember. _She's_ the one who hasn't remembered. We haven't heard from her in months; now she's rakin' in big bucks from a movie based on _us_."

"Hey, check this out, guys," Donatello called from his computer. "The heroine of the story is named April, and there's also a character named Casey. She's also got some guys in here named Don, Mike, Leo, and Raphael! Oh wow, and it's rated R for violence, language, and mild sexuality." He let out a low whistle. "Looks like she took some creative liberties, in that case. I can see Raph accounting for the violence and language, but as for the sexuality…." His voice trailed off into a repressed chuckle.

"Can it, shell-for-brains," Raphael growled. "Start that stupid stuff up again, 'n I'll make ya _eat_ that computer." Having been listening to his brothers' prior conversation, Michelangelo turned to Raphael and said, "Hey, chill out, bro. Don't get so mad about her not callin'. It's not her fault-"

"Not her fault?" Raphael almost yelled. "First 'a all, I don't care if she calls or not. I just think it's kinda messed up that she promised to keep us up to date about her stupid project and doesn't even tell us about the trailer bein' out or nuthin'. Who said I'm mad? And who said it ain't her fault for not callin'? If the trailer's out, then they're done with the movie. She's got time now. All she had to do was write the stupid script, anyway; it wasn't like she had to act in it, too."

"Actually, Raph," Donatello cut in, still gazing into his computer monitor. "According to IMDB, she played a character named Irma, but it's so far down on the list of credits that I'm guessing it's just a cameo." Raphael was about to threaten Donatello once again, but Leonardo interrupted him. "Mikey's right, Raph. Allison warned us that she would be getting swamped with work. And she told us about how she wanted a hand in everything, since this is her first big project. She's probably involved with a bunch of post-production stuff, making sure it all goes according to her vision."

Raphael scoffed at the idea as he stood. "Right. Cuz she's an artist. Write one movie about a bunch 'a mutants livin' in the sewers, and you suddenly become an artist." As Raphael turned to leave, Michelangelo was suddenly struck with an idea. "Hey Splinter," he asked, "what do you think the waves in California are like this time of year?"

Raphael stopped in his tracks as Splinter's soft voice shrewdly replied, "I do not know, my son." The hotheaded turtle turned to look at the trio still seated by the television. With a grin, Michelangelo suggested, "Well, how about we go and find out?" His arms crossed over his chest, Raphael inquired, "Mikey, what half-baked plan is comin' outta your pin-head _now_?"

"What?" Michelangelo asked innocently. "We all need a vacation. And California is vacation central! Palm trees, some sun-" Raphael took a step towards him, accusingly saying, "Yeah, and Florida's the same way, and _closer_. How you expect to travel through the different time zones? Buy a ticket through JetBlue and tell 'em you're green from food poisoning?"

"Simple," Donatello broke in. "I can use the helicopter I swiped from Stockman last year to get us there. With the alterations _I've_ been making on that baby, we'll be in California in even less time than it would take a commercial flight to get to Florida."

Raphael gawked at Donatello. "What, you too? I thought you were supposed to be the logical one." He looked at Splinter for assistance. "You're not actually considerin' agreein' with this, are ya? This is one 'a the toughest times 'a the year on this city. We can't just all go across the country because we think we've been workin' too hard."

Splinter merely shook his head, though the small smile he had didn't do anything to ease Raphael's mind. "Of course not. _Some_one needs to deal with the recent crime wave. And I do believe that I have spent enough time reading and can do with exercising my body as well as my mind."

"What? You? By yourself?"

"Do not be ridiculous, Raphael. April is surely competent enough to carry on where I cannot. Do you not believe so, Leonardo?" Raphael's eyes flashed at Leonardo, hoping that his previous reluctance to the idea of them needing a vacation would cause him to lean towards his side. Leonardo avoided Raphael's gaze, but did offer Splinter a vague smile of his own. "I do think April's ninjutsu training has come along quite nicely, actually. And if anything drastic happens, I'm sure Donnie can get us back here before it becomes too catastrophic."

Turning away from the conspirators, Raphael put both of his hands on his head and exclaimed, "I can't believe this!" Calling after him, Michelangelo said, "Well, if you don't wanna go, we can give your space to Casey. He's you in human form anyway, so maybe Allison won't be able to tell the difference."

Glaring at Michelangelo over his shoulders, Raphael darkly growled, "If you think that bonehead's any substitution for me, then you musta been hit in the head durin' the brawl with the punks earlier." Before they could say another word and only add to his aggravation, Raphael sped off to his room.

Looking back at his brothers, Michelangelo crooned, "I think Mr. Grumpy Ninja has a crush."

-------------------------------------------------

"Aw, how come I gotta stay?"

Leonardo looked back at Casey as he whined about being left behind. "Sorry, Case," he told him, "but we're only going to be gone for a week, and we can't afford bringing any unwanted attention to ourselves." Casey wasn't convinced. "Four little green men walkin' around Hollywood, and _I'm _the one who might draw unwanted attention. Right. I know when I'm bein' insulted."

"Besides," Donatello threw in, moving past Casey with a duffel bag in his arms and loading it into the helicopter, "you wouldn't want to leave April and Splinter alone to fend for themselves with this surge of crime going on, would you?" Casey crossed his arms over his chest, almost seeming to pout. "I still think you guys should let me tag along. How you gonna get a hotel, huh?"

"No prob, dude," Michelangelo commented, packing the DVDs he had borrowed from Allison months ago into a backpack. "Allison's cool. She'll let us stay at her pad. We've already done it before." Raphael slowly came up behind him, seeming to sulk about the whole deal. "I still think we shoulda called her before just expectin' her to welcome us back with open arms." With a grin and a friendly push, Michelangelo told him, "Hey dude, if you really don't wanna go, we could always haul Casey over, like I said before."

"Yeah," Casey piped up. "This Allison babe was crazy about me and my awesome moves on the ol' motorcycle." Stepping into the chopper, Raphael looked back at Casey and snarled, "If you think I'm gonna let ya go over there 'n sidetrack her before I can give her a piece 'a my mind, then you're losin' it, blockhead."

After Raphael disappeared inside, Michelangelo followed and turned to Casey. In his best imitation of his brother, Michelangelo said, "If ya think I'm gonna let ya go over there and steal away my girl before I fess up to my undyin' love for her, then you're-" From within, Raphael growled. "_You're_ dead." Michelangelo let out a squeal as Raphael pulled him out of view.

Casey and Leonardo couldn't help but laugh, and Donatello—who had to duck out of his brothers' way lest he get caught in the crossfire—also chuckled as he exited the helicopter. "Oh man," Donatello remarked, "is _this_ ever gonna be a vacation to remember."

"It would appear so, Donatello." The two turtles and one human turned around to see Splinter standing behind them. "You did not forget to take ample resources to thank your hostess with?" Leonardo checked a zipper in the canvas bag he was holding. "More than Allison would ever accept, plus enough left over for souvenirs."

As Splinter nodded in approval, Michelangelo stumbled out of the chopper. "Oh man, do we _have_ to bring Mr. Can't-Take-a-Joke? I don't think my shell can handle this for the whole trip." Not concealing his smirk, Donatello suggested, "Maybe you should stop needling him so much." Despite whatever Raphael had managed to do to him, Michelangelo uttered a laugh. "No way, bro! At this point, he's such an easy target!"

"I _am_ worried about Raphael," Leonardo confessed. "I mean, I appreciate a good joke now and then, but the way Raph's been acting ever since we first saw that trailer is just making me wonder if he's in any mindset for-" Splinter interrupted him. "Raphael expresses his emotions much differently than most. I am sure that, despite his current animosity, he is anxious to see his old friend again."

"Maybe," Casey commented, surprising the others by seeming to have misgivings similar to those of Leonardo's. "But somethin' about this trip is makin' me uneasy. Maybe the girl don't wanna talk to you guys? Or maybe she can't? I mean, I know it ain't nothin' you guys wanna be thinkin' about, but still… it's been, what, ten months? If Raph _is_ expectin' a warm welcome—which I ain't sayin' he _is_—then this might not be the best thing for him if she don't react the way you all expect her to, and he might be thinkin' the same thing. Y'know what I'm saying?"

Most of the turtles did not, but Splinter reassuringly put a hand on one of Casey's large arms. "I am sure your concern is well-meaning, but whatever this trip may bring, I feel that Raphael may return the stronger for it. If nothing else-" At this, he turned to his pupils and sternly finished, "I expect you boys to relax and be ready to return to work upon your arrival!" Michelangelo groaned and Donatello looked down. Only Leonardo remained unsurprised by his master's insistence on their continued hard work. In a pleasant voice, Splinter then told them, "And do not forget to send postcards. Have a safe trip, my sons."

After the entire company bade their farewells, the turtles set out for their trip to California.


	2. Chapter 2

"Second Time Around. How may I help you?"

"April?" April's pleasantness faded away when she heard the unfamiliar, choked voice on the other line. "Who is this?" The voice on the other end didn't answer. All that could be heard was a series of noises that sounded like someone was dry heaving. Having been in enough odd situations to know that there was a fine line between prank calls and a serious emergency, April anxiously remained on the line. She was about to give up when the voice spoke again. "The turtles… I need the turtles."

Surprised, April again inquired after the caller's identity. Instead of an answer, the person whispered in a guttural voice, "Medicine. I need… more… ohh." A clatter on the other end told April that the phone had just been dropped. "Hello? Hello? Who is this?" With an odd, sudden _snap!_ sound, the line went dead.

Unnerved, Allison put the phone down. _Turtles? More medicine?_ She wondered over the cryptic message and moved over to her caller ID. Instead of a name, she was given a location: Burbank, California. She blinked at the words before hurriedly copying down the number. California… why did that sound so crucial to her?

April left the counter and locked the door to the antique shop. It was her late night, and she was only doing inventory, so she figured that this was a good a time as any to close up for the night. She dashed up the stairs that led to her apartment. Her computer was always on, and she sat down at it. A quick look to her desk calendar told her that today was the day that the turtles were due to go on their vacation to see their friend… in California.

At the memory of Allison, a lump formed in April's throat. She quickly did a Google search on the phone number she had copied down. Sure enough, the number belonged to an Allison Grayson. "Oh no," she muttered, fearing the worst. She jotted down the address it gave her. Glancing at the time, she saw that it was nearly eleven o'clock. She had been sifting through old antiques longer than she had thought she would. The turtles were slated to leave around 8:30. For all she knew, given Donatello's adjustments to their helicopter, they might already be there. _More medicine._

A chill went down April's spine as she stood and took her shell cell out of her pocket. Though she hadn't witnessed it, she remembered about Allison being exposed to a highly concentrated version of Agent Bishop's outbreak virus, turning her into an insane and deadly mutant rat. Donatello and Leatherhead had worked hard on developing a cure from what little they had managed to salvage from Area 51 and turned her back into her normal self. But now… a voice calling from Allison's apartment demanding more medicine?

Calling Donatello, April thought, _This _definitely_ doesn't sound good._

-----------------------------------

"At the tone, the local time will be six o'clock. Beeeeeeeeeeep."

"Hey Mikey," Raphael barked. "Get a little more high-pitched, and I'll give ya somethin' to beep about!" Leonardo glared back at them and told them to stop arguing. He had given that order numerous times during the flight, but it was especially firm this time around. They were descending, and Leonardo had never been overly fond of descending aircrafts. He blamed it on a remnant of his childhood acrophobia, but never dared bring it up to any of his brothers.

They touched ground smoothly. "Here we are, gang," Donatello announced, switching off the helicopter's gears. "California! And in only a little more than two hours. This baby of mine is definitely-" Raphael stood and made his way to his shell cycle that had been stored in the back. "Yeah, yeah. C'mon. After all that time 'a stale air, I need to get outta here."

With that, the four turtles grabbed their bags and walked the two shell cycles they had brought with them out of the helicopter. Once outside, Donatello removed a remote control from one of his bags. When he aimed it at their chopper, a cloaking device activated. Even though they were in remote woodlands, the added precaution bestowed by Utrom technology made sure that they wouldn't get discovered by any wandering passerby. Looking up at the invisible aircraft, Donatello sighed fondly as his brothers began to load up on the two bikes. "Gotta love the Utroms."

He was about to go and ride behind Raphael when his shell cell went off. Annoyed by the delay, Raphael groaned, "Not even here two minutes and Casey's already busted somethin'!" Donatello ignored him and answered the call. "Hello? Oh, hey April-… huh? …We just got here. …What? …Are you sure?"

Not liking his troubled voice, Leonardo turned to look back at him. "Ok… ok, we'll check it out. Thanks for letting us know." As Donatello worriedly put his communicator away, Leonardo asked, "Everything okay? Do we need to head back?" Donatello grabbed a helmet and quickly put it on as he jumped to his seat behind Raphael. "No," he replied, "We have to go _forward_! Allison just called April, and it sounds like she's in big trouble!" Leonardo was about to ask what sort of trouble, but was too late.

Raphael took off immediately after the words left Donatello's mouth.


	3. Chapter 3

"This is the place."

Raphael looked back at Donatello as he parked his bike amidst the cover of bushes. "Yeah, I know the address, Donnie. Who do ya think _drove_ us here?" Without waiting for a resentful reply from his brother, Raphael quickly jumped off the shell cycle and ran towards a mesh of trees to the side of the large apartment complex. He could hear Leonardo and Michelangelo drive up somewhere behind him.

As Leonardo cut the engines, his hushed but urgent voice called out, "Raph, what are you doing? Get back here!" Without sparing him a glance, Raphael responded, "She lives on the third floor. You expect to have the doorman show us in?" Leonardo surprised him with an incredibly high jump, cutting him off at a tree bough just as the confrontational turtle got up there. Grabbing his brother's shoulders, Leonardo rationalized, "We don't even know what's going on. Cool down and let Donnie talk."

Pulling away from Leonardo and careful to maintain his balance, Raphael harshly muttered, "I might not be the leader or the genius 'a the group, but I know that when a friend's in trouble, you don't stop to ask questions." Withdrawing his sais and only subconsciously threatening Leonardo with them, he added, "I promised her that whoever tries to mess with her's got a date with _these_. Don't wanna keep nobody waitin'."

"That's the thing," Donatello blurted out, trying to quickly dissuade Raphael from any more rash action. "The only thing messing with her is her own DNA. Unless you're planning on using some latent science skills to cut out the bad genes, those aren't going to be of any use, Raph!"

"Whoa, whoa," Michelangelo piped up. "DNA? Genes? What you trying to say, Donnie?" Before Donatello could explain, Raphael darkly growled, "Whatever it is, _don't_." With Leonardo too preoccupied with Donatello's explanation, Raphael managed to silently scramble up the trees in his search for Allison's apartment.

"April told me she got a call from Allison's number," Donatello elucidated. "It didn't sound anything like Allison, but it mentioned us and said that it needed more medicine. It then sounded like it was choked off before the connection dropped. Given what we know, there's only one conclusion I can draw."

"A relapse of the outbreak," Leonardo stated, a severe expression on his face.

"Dudes, not cool, not cool!" Michelangelo exclaimed, alarmed. "We came all this way to visit a crazy, turtle-hungry version of Splinter? No way, I'm outta here!" He tried to dart off, but Donatello grabbed his arm. "You're not going anywhere, Mr. Battle Nexus Champion." Leonardo stood his ground. "He's right. Allison is our friend. We can't just abandon her."

"Yeah, easy for you to say," Michelangelo shot back, unappeased. "The only reason she didn't eat me last time was because she could still catch the scent of her friend's baby on me. Quick, bring me a baby! A whole score of babies! And however many a score is, add ten more to that!" Leonardo was not amused, if that had been Michelangelo's aim. "Mikey, get serious! Give me one good reason why we shouldn't help Allison."

Seeming to reach for something, _any_thing, to say, Michelangelo finally uttered, "Uh… well… we don't know which apartment's hers! Yeah, that's it! We can't risk sneaking into the wrong window! Not very ninja-like."

"Hey, knucklehead," Raphael's voice whispered from somewhere above them. "I'm guessin' it's the only one on the third floor where the lights are all off 'n the blinds are down. Just one of 'em hypothesis things."

The other three turtles looked at one another for a moment, as though contemplating their next move. Without a word, Leonardo continued up the tree, after his brother's voice. Donatello and Michelangelo looked at one another. "After you, darling tech-head brother of mine," Michelangelo said sweetly. With a lighthearted suspicion in his words, Donatello pushed Michelangelo towards the tree as he asked, "What, and risk you running off on us? I'm the _smart_ one, remember?"

Crouching besides his brother in the tree shadowed by the overhead clouds, Leonardo asked, "Any way to get in?" Standing, Raphael answered, "There's _always_ a way to get in. I'm just lookin' for a way to _look_ in, first." Spotting a window with slightly crooked blinds, Raphael leapt for that ledge. Leonardo was left staring after his brother, marveling over the fact that he seemed to show a sign of thinking rather than rushing forwards.

Trying not to cast any conspicuous shadows within the apartment (and also hoping to avoid a three-story fall), Raphael peered into the space between the slats of the Venetian blinds. The dim room that he was looking into appeared to be the living room, and he could make out the kitchen further within. Upon closer inspection, he could see another door that he imagined must have led to the bedroom. _Woulda thought someone in showbiz could afford a better dump_, he thought sarcastically as he recognized the sofas as Allison's.

_Now if I know this kid_, he continued to muse, examining the window, _she wouldn't be dumb enough to ask for our help and not leave some way in._ It looked to him as though the window was unlatched from the inside, so he tested this theory and pulled the windowpane up. It slid open easily.

Silently lifting up the blinds with his sai, Raphael slinked into the apartment. He held the blinds away for his brothers to jump in after him, one-by-one. "Keep your eyes peeled," Leonardo advised them in a thin whisper. "For what?" Michelangelo asked, his fear getting the better of him. Going furthest into the dark apartment, Raphael muttered back, "For a five-foot-six rat, that's what."

A sudden stillness overcame them as a creaking sound, inaudible perhaps to normal ears but loud as thunder to their trained ninja senses, came from one side. Raphael slowly turned to meet the sound. Had the door leading to the other room been slightly ajar, or had it been closed? Whatever the case, it was the only place any noise could have stemmed from. Taking out his sais once again, Raphael charged for the door, heedless of Leonardo's grabs to pull him back.

He crashed into the next room, the door slamming against the wall. Looking about, he saw an unmade bed, clothes strewn across the floor, and a haphazard mess that must have once been a workspace. He caught sight of something moving, but saw that it was only a tank with some kind of animal in it. _A pet turtle? I oughta smack her for keepin' a turtle for a pet._

A moan came from behind him and he turned swiftly on his heels. His brothers stopped at the doorway, noticing something he hadn't. When he had rushed at the door, he pushed it against a figure standing behind it. That figure was now on the ground, looking dazed. "Nice going, Jean Claude van Raph," Michelangelo smirked.

Donatello switched on a light switch. The creature on the floor twitched and shielded its eyes, letting out a pained cry. Leonardo quickly turned the light off. "No point," he told Donatello. "We can see just as well as she can. Bright lights will only scramble her senses even more." Even with only a few seconds of light, the four turtles recognized the cringing mutated rat with sleek black fur. Leonardo crouched warily in front of it and gently murmured, "Allison… we're here. We're going to take care of you."

"You might not wanna get that close to her, bro," Michelangelo warned, staying behind in the living room. "If she's gone nutzoid and is still contagious, the last thing we need is a monster Leo running around L.A." Leonardo merely shook his head at him, still looking down with concern at the being that was once Allison. "No, Mikey. Somehow, I don't think that's the case."

The three turtles watched as Leonardo carefully reached out for the creature, who they all realized was now sobbing. Feeling the turtle's touch, a dark, clawed paw reached out and covered Leonardo's hand. Michelangelo took a sharp intake of breath, almost certain that the other paw was going to go for his brother's throat. He almost passed out when the rat quickly sat up and threw herself at Leonardo.

Donatello was surprised as well. He backed away as Leonardo nearly fell onto his shell, getting his bo ready in case it was needed. He felt his tension slip away to pity as he discovered that Allison was only embracing Leonardo, grateful to see him.

"Leonardo," she said in a strained voice. "Thank God. I… I heard voices, and when I peaked out to look, someone came running towards me. I thought that a bunch of scientists found me and were taking me away. I panic so easily now, it's so… so…." Leonardo put his arms around her, whispering words of comfort. After grasping what Allison had just said, Michelangelo looked up at Raphael. "Smooth move, Raph. We're lucky she didn't try to throw herself out the window."

Raphael paid no attention to Michelangelo's comment. Instead, he sat on the ground, looking at Allison carefully. Noticing the movement, Allison looked up at him. "Raphael!" She parted from Leonardo and moved towards the latter turtle. He wondered over how different she looked in her mutated form this time; how in control she appeared now in contrast to the base, vicious animal she had been before. Whatever had happened, it was nothing like what occurred during their last meeting. As he silently pulled her into an embrace, she scolded, "You scared the crap out of me!"

"I know," he responded quietly.

"Do that to me again, and I'll kill you!"

"I know."

"You jerk."

"Idiot."

Allison pulled away from him, looking up at Raphael. Even in the darkness, he could make out her large brown eyes, and wondered if she was smiling at him. "We need answers." He hadn't realized that he had spoken those words out loud until she edged away from him, looking down. He glanced over his shoulder, not wanting to look at his brothers. "And judgin' by the mess you got around here, I'm bettin' that we ain't gonna like them answers."

"That's the thing," Allison told them as Donatello and Michelangelo joined them on the floor. "I don't _have_ any answers. I've been feeling a bit out of it for the past few days, mostly just cramps and other things that I blamed on work stress. Then weird things started happening, like me getting out of the shower and noticing that my legs look like I haven't shaved them, even though I did just a few minutes before. While I'm brushing my hair, I accidentally scratch my face and realize that my nails are twice as long as I remember them. Then I looked in the mirror a few hours ago and realize that I'm turning back into… into _this._ You don't know how terrified I was. I ran to call April just twenty minutes ago when I started changing and the pain was so bad that I was scared that she thought I was just some prank caller. …How did you guys get here so fast?"

Her words came out in a quick jumble, but the turtles understood her plainly. Donatello replied, "Eh… would you believe that we just happened to be in the neighborhood when we got April's call?" Michelangelo told her, "You don't ever gotta worry about April not relaying a message, bud. She's been through enough freaky happenings to know that _nothing's_ ever a prank call."

"Yeah," Raphael threw in. "When you're caught in the middle of an invasion of triceratops and see your friends whisked away into an adventure by a ditzy timestress, ya kinda get used to weird things poppin' up."

Never one to stray away too far from the matter at hand, Leonardo asked, "Have you eaten anything strange or done anything outside of your normal routine that might've triggered a relapse?" Allison shook her head. "Not that I know of. I mean, my life hasn't had much of a routine at all since I've met you guys, but I haven't been bitten by any radioactive spiders or come into contact with an alien crystal, so I can't think of anything in particular that would cause this."

"Hmm," Donatello pondered. "This might have something to do with the fact that you were given such a weak dose of the cure in comparison to what we had given Robert to fully cure him." At the mention of the person who had initially come in contact with the virus and thus contaminated Allison, Michelangelo remarked, "Hey! Robert! Is he-?"

Allison quickly nodded. "Before I even started changing, I called him and made sure he was okay. He still doesn't remember anything about his transformation, so he would've brought up anything strange that's been going on."

Donatello nodded, as though this fact answered everything. "If it's only happened to you, then it _must_ be the weaker dosage. And since you couldn't see who we were when we first came in, I'm betting that your senses aren't as sharp as they were when you first mutated. My guess is that the contagion factor has been eliminated as well. If that's the case, this might only be an _external_ physical change and not one as drastic as the one that came over you the last time. All that remains is to find the active chemical of the cure and mix up a new batch."

They all thought about the fatal flaw in Donatello's solution, but none of them gave voice to it. "That's great, bro," Michelangelo finally brought up. "But like, _where_ are we gonna find it? That chemical came from Area 51, and thanks to Bishop and his cronies, it doesn't exist anymore."

"That's easily enough taken care of," Donatello replied. "Though it's hard for average, run-of-the-mill citizens to get their hands on, it was by no means rare. Allison, do you know of any laboratories or large science universities nearby?" Allison blinked at the question. "Donatello, I'm a _writer_. Unless we're Asimov or Hubbard, we tend to stay far, far away from the realms of science."

"Is your computer hooked up to the Internet?"

"Yeah."

Jumping to his feet, Donatello said, "I'll do a search for any scientific bases around the neighborhood, then." He went over to the desk in the bedroom and turned on the computer as Raphael said, "Yeah? Then what? Ya think you can just waltz in there and ask to borrow some chemicals to cure a mutation? …'specially one that ain't _yours_?"

"Yo Raph, cool it, bro," Michelangelo told him. "Donnie's a ninja. No one will know he's there." Leonardo agreed, but not without some degree of caution. "I don't think this is something that Donnie should do alone, and I don't recommend Allison leave the apartment until we're sure that her mutation isn't going to suddenly affect her mind. I'll go with him. Mike and Raph, you stay here and watch over Allison. Make sure that you call us at the slightest sign of trouble."

As the others began to disperse and leave him and Allison sitting on the floor, Raphael remarked, "I think we could save a lot of grief if we just lock her in the bathroom now, with her hands tied behind her back." Standing, Allison sarcastically replied, "Thank you, Raphael. I can just smell the amity seeping from your very pores." With an exaggerated sniff towards Raphael, Michelangelo commented, "Ohh, is _that _what that smell's called?"

With a solid push at Michelangelo, Raphael stood and asked of the others, "Okay, tell me why there are three of us and _I'm_ the one to always get stuck with him." With a sigh, Allison looked at Michelangelo and asked, "I take it the two of you still don't get along, huh?" As she went over to her bed and turned on the lamp by her nightstand, Michelangelo innocently claimed that he didn't know what she was talking about. "I wuv my baby bwother, and he wuvs me. Isn't that wight, Raphy-baby?"

Raphael lunged at Michelangelo, yelling about which one of them was actually the youngest. Seeing Allison flinch, Leonardo and Donatello looked at one another. "On second thought," Donatello mentioned, "maybe Raph should come with me instead. I'll need his, er, … I'll need him. Yeah." For some reason, Leonardo felt inclined to agree.

Grateful to be rid of Michelangelo for a short while, Raphael nodded and put his weapons away. "Right. So, where we goin'?" Donatello told him that he found a genetics lab about half an hour away, probably less with the way Raphael drives the shell cycle. He nodded again and looked at Allison. "We'll be back in about an hour. Sit tight."

The look on his friend's face struck him. In the darkness, he hadn't been able to see Allison's face, so imagined the best. Now, with a small lamp on, Raphael could see that no amount of fur and no facial alterations could hide the sadness and panic from her countenance. "Hurry back, guys." She said the words to both of them as Donatello stood from the computer, but her eyes never left Raphael's.

"We will, kid," he assured her quietly. "We will."


	4. Chapter 4

"Kinda spooky for a nerd hangout."

Thus was Raphael's reaction when he first saw the AJB Genetic Research Facility. His thoughts were well-founded. Though Donatello's quick Internet research showed that the labs were still active, it seemed as though the building had fallen into disuse. Chips of concrete had crumbled off and the infrastructure seemed to have eroded somewhat, baring the skeleton of the edifice. The dirt road surrounding the facility showed no evidence of use over the past few months, at the least. The wire fence was warped and rusted, causing a creaking sound to echo through the air as the clouded-over sun began to slowly seep towards the horizon.

Donatello was happy that they had left Michelangelo behind; he would most likely have been scared stiff at the sight of the place. "Strange," he murmured as he and Raphael carefully approached the building. "I traced a shipment made here less than a month ago. Unless this is a Hollywood front, I can't understand why a genetics laboratory would look this way."

"Can a Hollywood front actually be listed as somethin' it ain't?" Raphael asked. Donatello shook his head. "I've no idea." Raphael looked at the building in consideration before shrugging his shoulders and quickening his stride. "Might as well check it out."

Donatello grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him back. "Hold on, Raph. I'm not liking this." Seeing his brother's eyes roaming around the large property, Raphael questioned, "What? Security cameras?" Donatello didn't answer for a moment, but finally shook his head again. "No. _No_ security cameras. If this place was closed down only in the past few weeks, I'd at least be able to spy some evidence of their security system. But… I don't see anything. So either it's all been taken away already… or it's so sophisticated and well-hidden that I just can't see it."

Raphael looked at Donatello levelly before gazing back at the building. He said nothing, only stood there in contemplation. Not sure if he was more unnerved by the eeriness of the building or by his brother's reticence, Donatello stated, "C'mon. Let's go back to Allison's and see if we can find someplace else." Raphael didn't budge. "Raph, come on."

"Is there the slightest chance 'a that chemical bein' in there?" Donatello considered Raphael's question, looking back at the seemingly-deserted labs. "I don't know. There might be, if the facility is active and they just have really bad housekeepers. Or if they've closed down and haven't moved all of their stuff to their new location-"

"That ain't what I'm askin'," Raphael broke in. "Is there a chance, or ain't there?" Reluctantly, Donatello answered that there was. "But Raph," he pleaded, "I've got a bad feeling about this place-" Raphael wouldn't listen. Instead, he told Donatello, "No people means no chance 'a gettin' caught. And turnin' back means we just wasted time. I'm here, so I ain't wastin' time when there's no chance 'a me gettin' caught. You don't wanna go, then just tell me what to look for, capisce?" Knowing that Raphael wasn't going to let up, Donatello agreed to go in.

Sticking to the shadows, the turtles kept their eyes open for surveillance cameras or any other security measures that may have been taken. Both of them have been through enough to know that when something seems simple, mistakes get made far too easily. With their stealth and caution, the pair made it to the back of the building.

Here, Donatello breathed a sigh of relief. The road at the posterior of the labs exhibited numerous tire tracks. None of them seemed too fresh, but the knowledge that they weren't entering a mysteriously vacant genetics lab caused him to breathe easier. He looked to see if Raphael noted the signs of life, but found that his brother had used his sais to pick a lock holding a pair of doors closed.

Gaining entrance, Raphael slipped into the dark building, silently beckoning Donatello to follow. Donatello slowly crept towards him, but stopped. He thought he heard a sound being carried over by the evening breeze. He looked around, but saw nothing and no one. His suspicions about their locale being reawakened, Donatello made a quick visual sweep of everything in the vicinity. Looking upon the ground, he saw what he had feared to see.

To one side, what he had initially thought were tire tracks were too neat and even to belong to a vehicle. It seemed as though someone had scraped something across the dirt to hide prints and make one _think_ that they were just the marks of a car or truck. And it looked as though this ruse had been committed recently. _Very_ recently. _Someone was here,_ Donatello discovered. _Someone knows we're here, and just tried to cover up their tracks. But… why not come out and stop us?_

Realizing that Raphael had continued on, Donatello looked up at the door. Approaching it, he was chilled when he realized what was wrong with it. A padlock. What self-respecting scientist protects his laboratory with a _padlock_? Even if the place was abandoned, it would be covered by better security devices than this. Unless… someone _wanted_ them to come in.

_A trap,_ Donatello realized. _We're walking right into a trap._

Still, no one had jumped Raphael, and his brother was trying various doors on the inside. The best thing Donatello could think of to do is to stay close to Raphael. For them to be separated and possibly defeated in an unknown genetics lab would be a terrible way to continue their "vacation."

Raphael paid no mind to the fact that his brother scurried in after him as though he were startled by something. Just as Donatello joined him at his side and tried to tell him something, Raphael opened a door and looked within. Pushing the door open all the way, he stepped to the side for Donatello to see. "Place looks and smells worse than your room," he commented.

Distracted from whatever he had been trying to say, Donatello gaped at the main laboratory, his mouth open in surprise. "Wow," he breathed. "This place is incredible." He began spouting off the complex names of the various apparatuses he could recognize. When the terms reached more than five syllables, Raphael quickly lost interest. Moving to a glass cabinet, Raphael squinted at the small letters on the vials of substances within. "Fascinatin' as this might be," he said, "we got a girl to get back to. Which one 'a these is the one we need?"

Seeming to remember their current situation, Donatello quickly made his way next to Raphael. The fact that everything appeared to be in operating condition only confirmed his suspicions. This lab was still very much active, and they needed to get out of there as quickly as they could to avoid becoming its latest experiment. After a few seconds, he spotted the amber-colored liquid and was relieved to see that there was a good supply of it.

"There," he pointed. He tried to slide the glass cabinet opened, but it was locked. "Great," he muttered. He wasn't even given the chance to ask Raphael to carefully pick the lock before one of Raphael's sais went through the glass. Startled, Donatello jumped slightly as Raphael reached in and took the vial. "Stupid, but effective," Donatello remarked. "Now, let's hurry on out of here."

"You're not going anywhere!"

Both of the turtles stiffened as they heard the authoritative voice behind them. In slow, miniscule movements, they both turned just as a bright light was flashed on them. The glare threw them both off balance, but they managed to make out two men clad in black, aiming some rather heavy artillery at them.

Getting over the initial surprise, Raphael clenched the vial as securely as he could and glared at the men who meant to become their captors. "So ya snuck up on a ninja. Betcha can't wait to write to Mom about that. So I'll let ya write your letters, and me and my buddy are just gonna head on out, and nobody's gotta end up in a body bag. That sound cool with you?"

"I'm afraid that's not possible." Raphael froze again at the new—yet familiar—voice. Seeing the third person step into view, Donatello shook his head anxiously and murmured, "Oh no. It _can't_ be."

"There appears to be nowhere in the country where I can carry on my work free of freaks." Staring at the two of them dispassionately, Agent John Bishop stopped directly behind his two gunmen. "It's not everyday that a pair of sentient reptiles break into one of my facilities and attempt to make off with one of my compounds." Eyeing the amber fluid in the bottle that Raphael seemed determined to protect, a grim smile tugged at the edges of his thin lips. "And judging by the one you've attempted to steal, I'm imagining that there must be an intriguing explanation behind this." His eyes darted over to Donatello. "I take it that you're… _ill_ again?"

"No," Donatello said, hoping to explain calmly by appealing to whatever remnant of humanity Bishop may have in him. "It's not for me. It's-" And once again, Raphael's temper flared up and got him raving. "It ain't for him, you self-righteous bastard! That damned virus that you 'n Stockman cooked up's wreckin' a girl's life! She needs this, 'n she needs it _now_! You even _think_ about stoppin' me from helpin' her, and my foot's gonna hafta be surgically removed from your ass, ya got that?"

Bishop merely looked at the enraged turtle. His expression seemed placid, but Donatello imagined that he could see a degree of perverse interest and cruel calculation. "As always, you impress me with your colorful language, considering that you were born in an aquarium." Raphael growled and had to be held back by Donatello. "Raph, no!"

Looking up at Bishop, Donatello prayed that the agent would be able to put aside his hatred for everything non-human and see they were once again on the same side in this case. "Look Bishop, we've got this friend. A _human_ friend. Almost a year ago, she came in contact with a very concentrated version of the outbreak virus. We're thinking that there must've still been a creature on which the cure didn't work, causing the virus to get stronger. She mutated and we managed to throw together a cure, but it was far weaker than we would have liked for it to be. She changed back into her human form, but she's been going into a gradual relapse for the past few days. Today, she completely went back to her mutated form. We're pretty sure it's not serious enough to affect her sanity or be as contagious as it was the last time, but she needs to be fully cured. She's an innocent human being. If you keep us from helping her, then you're going against your own mission of protecting humans at all costs."

Throughout Donatello's explanation, Bishop's eyes didn't appear to shift from Raphael. When another ghost of a smirk seemed to play on his lips, Donatello's uneasiness grew. "Heart-wrenching tale," Bishop finally said flatly. "Truly, truly pitiful. Unfortunately, you _are _attempting to illegally procure a chemical of which I have a vital need. I think it would be best that this woman be brought back here, where we can run the proper tests and be sure of a complete detoxification."

The words were hardly out of his mouth when Raphael barked, "Are you kiddin'? Bring her here and let ya stick her under a microscope? I wouldn't put it past you to run your cockamamie experiments on her in your little torture chamber, human or not."

Another silence passed. At length, Bishop called, "Hayes." The man to his left asked, "Yes sir?" Narrowing his eyes, Bishop asked, "How many turtles does it take to relay a message?"

"Just one, sir."

Before Donatello knew what had happened, Raphael crashed against the glass cabinet. Shocked, Donatello stepped backwards, gaping down at his fallen brother even as he withdrew his bo. Something that looked like a dart of sorts was protruding from Raphael's chest. Just as he thought the worst, the two gunmen moved so that they were between Raphael and Donatello. "He's only unconscious," Bishop's detached voice told him. "He should be absolutely healthy when you come back to trade the girl in for him."

Donatello's eyes shot back up at the agent. He could see the quietly smug expression on Bishop's face and felt a shiver of self-loathing in the fact that he had just tried to make a deal with him. "I'm not leaving here," Donatello told him lowly, "without my brother."

In a move more natural to Raphael, Donatello ran for Bishop, meaning to at least erase that confident air from his face. Bishop's smile only turned slightly sour, the way Michelangelo's face does when he reaches an easy obstacle in a video game. "Then it seems that you'll have to be removed from the premises."

Before Donatello could accept the implications of Bishop's words, he felt something sting his leg. He grunted, trying not to let that small pinprick bring him down. He barely realized that Bishop's fist was quickly coming up close to his face before he felt the numbing impact of it and hit the floor shell-first.

"You're lucky I'm willing to bargain with you, reptile." Donatello tried to sit up, but Bishop lowered his foot on the turtle's throat. His vision beginning to blur, Donatello could do little else but stare up at Bishop's pale face. The light shone off of the man's glasses, making it look as though his eyes were two burning pools of light. Bishop leaned down close to the turtle and quietly stated, "I want that girl. I have both Raphael and the cure. If you want either of those two, then your course of action is simple. Two hours. I don't have to tell you what will happen if you're late." If he said anything more than that, it didn't matter.

Donatello's world faded into blackness.


	5. Chapter 5

"So, what's his name?"

Allison looked up at Michelangelo, seeing that he was curiously peering into her tank and admiring her pet box turtle. If the rat snout she currently had would have allowed it, she would have let out a half-smile. "Botticelli," she replied. Leonardo had also gotten up and looked down at the large turtle on her desk. "Hmm," Michelangelo mused, "I'm sensing a common theme in turtle names."

Allison laughed quietly as Leonardo gingerly put a hand in the tank and petted Botticelli's head. "How long have you had him?" Leonardo asked. Still not moving from her bed, she told him, "Ever since I moved here. I guess I felt kinda lonely not having a turtle around." She laughed again, seeing Leonardo's small smile.

"He's pretty big," Michelangelo noted. "I woulda thought he was older." Leonardo looked up at him wryly. "If size were any indicator of age, Mikey, then he probably thinks _we're_ ancient." Considering this, Michelangelo agreed with a small smile.

Allison couldn't help but wonder if the two larger turtles somehow felt offended by her choice of pets. Standing, she quickly explained, "I don't know how old he is, actually. My friend found him in her garden and was going to get rid of him. I happened to be visiting her when she found him and offered to take him home with me." Standing by the tank, she pointed one clawed fingertip towards Botticelli's shell. "See how the shell's all misshapen? That's called pyramiding. It happens to turtles who don't keep a proper diet. Luckily, his case wasn't too bad when I took him in, so caring for him isn't as hard as it could have been."

"Improper diet, huh?" Michelangelo pondered somewhat worriedly, trying to look at his shell's reflection in the full-length mirror attached to Allison's closet. "Y'mean like, pizza and stuff?" Sitting at her desk, Allison dryly answered, "I mean like _garbage_ and stuff."

Leonardo's eyes softened as he looked down at Botticelli sympathetically. "Poor little guy. It's times like this when you realize just how good we actually have it." Michelangelo concurred. "Yeah. Turning into mutant turtles is definitely the best thing that ever happened to us." He looked at Allison and flinched. "Uh… of course, mutant rats aren't too bad, either. Just look at Splinter. When the wintertime comes around, he's always the warmest out of all of us. Then again, that probably doesn't help much in California, huh?"

Allison looked down, though she was somewhat amused by Michelangelo's attempt to make up for an insult that wasn't there. "It's okay, Mike," she said. "Donatello and Raphael will be back soon, and then this will all be over." Aware of the fact that she sounded as though she were in denial, she stood up and walked back to her bed. As she sat down, she was surprised to see that Leonardo had followed her and sat besides her.

"I'm sorry you ever had to get involved in something like this," Leonardo whispered comfortingly. "I promise that-" Allison cut him off with a small chuckle. "Don't make me any promises, Leonardo." As she turned to meet his eyes, Leonardo could see that she was speaking earnestly. "In case you've forgotten about everything I've been through, I'm a lot stronger than most girls my age. I freaked out when I saw that I was changing back, but now that I know I'm not gonna try and kill everyone in the building, I'm fine. And now that you guys are here with me again, I'm not afraid."

She gently laid a hand on his arm, still cautious about the possible contagion factor. "It might be a crummy start to your vacation, but I'll make it up to you. And _that's_ a promise. Okay?" Before Leonardo could answer her, Allison reached over and hugged him, showing her thankfulness. Grateful that she could still seem so optimistic about this entire thing, Leonardo embraced her back.

Sitting on the desk now, Michelangelo watched the exchange between the two of them and raised an eye ridge. Looking down at Botticelli, he smirked, "Heh, looks like Raph's got some competition now." Hearing Michelangelo's remark, Allison looked over at him. "Raphael? What do you-?"

Her question was cut off by a sharp beeping sound. Allison started, but calmed down when she saw Leonardo answer his shell cell. "That you, Donnie?" Still wondering over Michelangelo's words but not wanting to bring it up, Allison tried to concentrate her thoughts on Leonardo's conversation. Hopefully, Donatello was calling to say that he and Raphael were on their way back with the compound, and needed them to prepare for the-

"What?"

Allison felt chilled by Leonardo's voice. It sounded terrified while still trying to seem in control. Having been coddled by most of the people she's worked with because she was always the youngest, Allison knew what this meant. Something was wrong, and Leonardo was going to be determined to attempt to leave her out of it.

"Okay," Leonardo continued, still trying to maintain his calm. "Okay, where are you? Okay, hold on." He looked up at Allison and asked, "Do you know where Brightby and Carter Streets are?" Allison thought for a moment and responded that she knew where Brightby was and was pretty sure she could find Carter somewhere along it. To Donatello, Leonardo said, "Okay, Allison knows how to get there. …What? …Well… all right, fine. Fine. Just hang tight. We'll work something out once we get there."

Putting the shell cell away, Leonardo looked up to see that Michelangelo had moved to look at him oddly. Looking to Allison, Leonardo asked, "Do you have a car?" She nodded and got up, fishing her keys from a purse on her bureau and picking a long hooded duster up from the floor. Seeing her put the jacket on, Leonardo quickly added, "You'll stay here. Mikey and I will go pick up Don."

Allison looked at him, surprised. "But I'm the one who knows how to get there." Leonardo informed her that it would be too risky to let her out. He stood and walked over to her, reaching for her keys. Realizing something, she drew back. "What's happened to Raphael?" Instead of answering her, Leonardo simply requested the keys once again. She shook her head and backed away from him. "Where's Raphael?"

Seeing that this could launch into an argument, Michelangelo asked, "Hey bro, let's just take her with us. She _does_ know how to get there, anyway." Leonardo sharply answered, "She can just as easily give us directions. Now Allison, please, give me those keys and tell me how to get to Brightby and Carter." Knowing now that something was wrong if Raphael was unaccounted for and Leonardo was determined to leave her behind, Allison said, "You'll get directions once I'm in that car with you."

Leonardo lowered his hand, staring at Allison intensely. Though he knew that Donatello had warned that it was best that she stay behind, Leonardo had a feeling that that wouldn't be possible. As much as she may have connected with Raphael, Allison's personality was also very similar to that of Leonardo's. If they were as alike as he thought, there was no way Allison was simply going to stay behind while she had any strength left in her.

Without another word, Allison lifted the hood of her duster and covered her face, briskly storming past Leonardo. "I'll drive," she stated, motioning for Michelangelo to follow her. "I'm a bit more protective of this car than my old one." The jacket billowing behind her like a cape, Michelangelo simply blinked at her as she left the room. "Whoa," he whistled. "Why do we always fall in with these assertive female types?"

Leonardo stepped besides his brother, watching as their friend opened up a glass display case in her living room. She removed several small items from within and then finally withdrew something that looked similar to Donatello's bo staff. "I don't know, Mikey," Leonardo responded, finally moving to join Allison as Michelangelo followed him. "But maybe it's not wholly something to complain about."

Turning back to the turtles, Allison noticed them looking at her weapon. "One of the props from _The Sewer Dwellers_," she explained. "One of my favorite toys. Decided to buy it before it wound up on eBay." Michelangelo admired the long black rod with the delicate silver designs and the red tassels at either end. "Pretty," he commented. "But how's it handle off the set?" Pulling it to her side and continuing towards the door, she replied, "We'll find out soon enough."

Leonardo reached over and grabbed her elbow, pulling her towards the window that he and his brothers had entered from. "Let's hope we _don't_," he said, genuinely worried now. "Allison, for all intents and purposes, you're our driver and our navigator. Donatello was dead set on having you stay behind, so I can't have you running around with a giant movie prop. There are no cuts or edits or stunt doubles. I don't want to take a chance with your life." Pulling away from him and trying to keep her frustration out of her voice, she retaliated with, "So you'd rather waste time and take a chance with _Raphael's_ life?"

The question seemed to strike a nerve and so, not wanting to look at Leonardo's face, she turned sharply to the window. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, raising the Venetian blinds. "I just don't exactly like being pinned down by authoritative figures all that much." Peering at Leonardo over her shoulder, she added in a vaguely amused voice, "But I guess you're used to dealing with people like that, huh?" Not giving Leonardo a chance to answer, she quickly ducked her head and dived out the window.

Startled, Leonardo and Michelangelo darted towards the window and gaped out. Both were surprised to see that Allison was jumping from limb to limb on the nearby tree, until effortlessly touching ground. With her black duster fluttering behind her and the staff in her hand, Michelangelo couldn't help but comment, "Now _there's_ a girl who learned how to make an exit from watching movies!" With that, both of the turtles leapt out of the window directly onto the ground, rejoining their friend.

Being at the back of the apartment complex, the parking lot was visible from where the trio stood and they quickly made their way towards it. A few people were in the vicinity and glanced at them oddly, but Leonardo and Michelangelo tried their best to ignore the glances. As they approached the entrance to the parking lot, the turtles noticed a security guard standing up from his post and gawking at them. "Follow my lead, guys," was all Allison breathed out.

"Hi Malcolm," Allison said perkily, handing the guard her driver's license from her pocket. "How's the shift going?" Squinting down at the ID, Malcolm scratched his head. "Oh, it's you, Miss Grayson. Is it a full moon out tonight?" Allison laughed good-naturedly as the identification was returned to her. "Just doing a full dress-and-make-up for some re-shoots for the movie." Interested, Malcolm peered at Leonardo and Michelangelo and asked, "Ohh, and these are a couple of your stars, huh?"

"Yup," Michelangelo professed. "Top billing, our own trailer, all that sort of thing. We can't even go out without our costumes or the paparazzi will- Ow!" His spiel was interrupted by a hard nudge from Leonardo's elbow. "We're just extras," the more mature turtle quickly explained. "No one important. We're probably going to end up being cut from the film, anyway." As Allison waved goodbye to the security guard and quickly led the turtles towards her car, Malcolm called, "I sure hope not, fellas. I don't know much about the movies, but those are some of the best-looking costumes I've ever seen. Woulda almost made me think you were real critters!" Unable to resist, Michelangelo turned and told him, "Don't forget to look for us in the special features section of the DVD!"

Scolding Michelangelo in hushed tones, they made their way to Allison's car.


	6. Chapter 6

Donatello was pacing nervously on the corner of Brightby and Carter.

Wherever it was that Bishop's men had left him, it seemed to be devoid of all life, human or otherwise. The warehouses in the vicinity were boarded up and looked even more desolate than the "AJB" building had. A few cars passed by every now and again, but Donatello soon decided that it was because some sort of main road must not be too far off in the distance. Not knowing what sort of automobile his brothers would arrive in, Donatello simply dove behind a group of garbage cans to avoid the strangers without completely blocking his view.

A slightly nauseous feeling gnawed at him. He didn't know if this was a reaction to the tranquilizers he had been shot with, or a symptom of the dread he felt. True, this wasn't the first time one of their own had been captured by Agent Bishop and, like a television show plotline that refuses to die, this most likely won't be the last time they ever have to deal with him, but Donatello couldn't shake the idea that there was something different this time around.

If Bishop had wanted all of the turtles captured, he would have known that he could have kept both Raphael and Donatello, evoking the suspicions of the others and thus leading them straight to him. And any genuine desire to help Allison would have led to him attempting to extract her location from the two of them by force. No, he wanted to send Donatello back for one of two reasons. Either he actually did want Donatello to return with Allison… or he intended to keep Raphael for unknown purposes. With a shudder, Donatello tried not to think of the likelihood of _both_ of those being the case. With the history Bishop had concerning cruel experimentation….

Hearing a car approaching, Donatello snapped out of his worried pacing and quickly dodged back towards the garbage cans. Squinting in the darkness, he realized that the car had suddenly cut its headlights and was slowing down. When he felt his shell cell silently vibrate, he knew it was the others and stood, revealing his location. The red BMW quickly rounded the corner and drove up besides him.

"Dude," Michelangelo said from the backseat. "This place is like, Nowheresville."

"Donnie," Leonardo asked from the passenger seat as he put away his shell cell. "You okay?" Donatello halted as he approached the car, realizing who the driver was. "Allison? What are you-?" Allison got out of the car and walked briskly over to him. "Donatello, are you all right? What's happened?" She reached over to embrace him, and though Donatello felt touched by the honest worry in her voice, he reached out and held her away from him. "Allison, are you nuts?"

"Nuttier than a Hershey's bar with almonds," Michelangelo informed him, sticking his head out the window. "But then, you gotta be to pal around with a bunch of green ninjas." Ignoring Donatello's reprimands, Allison asked, "Donatello, what's happened? Where's Raphael?"

"Allison, go back home. You don't know what you're dealing with."

"I didn't know what I was dealing with the last time, either."

"This is serious."

"I'm already in too deep."

"Allison, _go_-"

"Guys, take cover!" Allison was surprised to feel Leonardo's hand grab at her through the window and pull her down, causing her to fall against the car just as her headlights seemed to shatter. Michelangelo slid out of the backseat and joined her in a crouch on the ground. Judging by how the three turtles took cover besides her, Allison realized that they were being shot at. "Great," she muttered as she reached into the car and withdrew her weapon. "And I'm not even done paying for this thing yet."

Donatello let out an annoyed groan as he observed the small group of gunmen heading towards them. "I should've _known_ that he wouldn't let me out of his sight until I delivered the goods." Allison was about to ask him what he meant when Leonardo grimly said, "This doesn't look good. We're outnumbered and unprepared for battle. We're going to have to get through via a tight strategy."

Allison reached into her pocket and pulled out a handful of small dark spheres that looked like charcoal. "Or we could use these." The turtles peered over at the spherical objects in her hand. "Smoke bombs?" Donatello guessed. Allison gave a slight shrug of her shoulders. "Yes and no. More props from _Sewer Dwellers_. A very weak version of mercuric fulminate, a powerful explosive." Donatello took one of the balls out of her hand. "Of course! When you minimize the amount of mercury and insert the compounds into a capsule, the resulting explosive becomes susceptible to friction or shock and forms a thick black smoke, acting like a watered-down, time-insensitive grenade." Michelangelo blinked confusedly at his brother. "Someone wanna run that by me again, maybe in English?"

Thoughtfully taking one of the tablets from Allison's palm, Leonardo murmured, "It's both defense _and_ offense."

--------------------------------

"My, my. Aren't _you_ a late sleeper."

Raphael shook his head firmly, trying to get his bearings straight. He felt a surge of revulsion when he saw Bishop standing directly in front of him. Realizing he wasn't tied down to anything, he growled and tried to lunge at the man, only to collide into a thick sheet of glass. Landing on the floor, Raphael shook his head again and looked around. He suddenly realized where he was.

He was in a containment unit, not unlike the one Donatello had been entrapped in when he was infected by the outbreak virus. Looking up, he could make out several small openings that were either for ventilation… or for the introduction of some sort of vapor. They had been used when both Donatello and Allison's friend Robert had needed a gaseous form of the cure to be introduced to their system. However, Raphael bet that Bishop wasn't planning on administering any sort of "cure" on him.

"What's the matter," he asked Bishop sarcastically. "The local Holiday Inn was booked?" Bishop merely stood there, the same near-smile upon his lips. "Amusing," was the response. "However, perhaps even _you_ will learn to hold your tongue when you listen and realize that I might just be doing you a favor."

"Ya missed a big condition there, Bishop," Raphael snarled, making his way up to his feet again. "You're assumin' that I'll actually _listen_ to ya." Taking a step towards the glass encasement, Bishop murmured, "Yes, that _is_ quite presumptuous of me, given our history together. But maybe you'll place some stock in the fact that, other than your containment for the safety of myself and my men, you are mostly unfettered and still breathing. Does that make any difference to you?"

"In a word: no."

Bishop looked at him blankly before pushing his glasses up higher in the ridge of his nose. Finally, he continued in his vaguely business-like manner. "For months, I have been working with the renowned Baxter Stockman—or rather, what remains of the arrogant doctor. After the fiasco at Area 51, Stockman discovered something very interesting about this 'cure' that your crocodilian comrade threw together. Do you have any idea what that might've been?"

"Let me guess," Raphael muttered, already knowing he was intended for some sort of experimentation. "It was just chock-full 'a vitamin C, huh?" It only got his blood boiling when Bishop threw his head back in laughter. "Oh no," the agent finally replied. "Something better. Something much more beneficial to mankind."

Going back to his previous seriousness, Bishop continued to walk towards the containment unit. "Do you ever tire, reptile, of what you are? The endless hiding and persecution, the constant dread of the terrified screams from the people you claim to want to protect?" Stopping only a few inches away from Raphael's face, Bishop whispered, "If you claim human emotions from within, are you ever loath to see an inhuman appearance without?"

Raphael narrowed his eyes at him, saying nothing. Something about this made his skin crawl. For once, Bishop wasn't being threatening or ranting about how the turtles were a threat to humanity. If Raphael wasn't as cynical and suspicious as he always had been, he would have almost thought that he heard something almost akin to _sympathy_ in Bishop's voice. The idea would have made him laugh if only it weren't for something that chilled him: everything Bishop was saying was, on some level, true.

Raphael didn't know what was worse. It was bad enough to realize that he had always felt a sort of longing to have what the humans have, to know that his source of constant discontentment laid within his very genetic structure. But to think that _Bishop_ would be the one to vocalize such veiled sentiments… it was enough to make Raphael sick.

"Lemme get this straight," Raphael finally brought up, not about to let Bishop think he had gotten to him. "You, the human who's been on my ass and makin' my life a livin' hell, are tryin' to psychoanalyze me? Get real, ya lousy bum. What would ever make ya think I'd aspire to be part 'a _your_ species?"

The sentence was barely out of his mouth when Bishop removed something from behind his back that appeared to be a tape recorder. Raphael suddenly heard his own voice screaming, "_That damned virus that you 'n Stockman cooked up's wreckin' a girl's life! She needs this, 'n she needs it _now_! You even_ think _about stoppin' me from helpin' her, and my foot's gonna hafta be surgically removed from your ass, ya got that?_"

By the time the turtle realized that this was his earlier threat in regards to getting the chemical back to Allison, Bishop cracked a half-smile. Putting the device away, Bishop remarked, "Interesting, isn't it? Just now, you were speaking about how I'm always on _your_ 'ass' and making _your_ life a living hell. Signs of a rather self-centered individual, you must admit."

"What the shell-"

"And yet," Bishop continued, as though he had never been interrupted, "this _friend_ of yours ranks rather high on your list of priorities. Judging by the conversation recorded between yourself and your brother outside my labs, you also ignored his rather logical advice of turning back because you didn't want to waste time. I originally attributed this to the fact that you are, essentially, the hotheaded one, but given your persistence on helping this girl and your current body language, I can only wonder how… important you judge her to be."

Raphael gaped at Bishop before sinking his head in his hand. "I can't believe this," he muttered. "Even my arch enemies are startin' this crap about us. What is this, some new kinda torture?"

Bishop raised an eyebrow. "Don't be vile. Though she may be a mutant now, she was originally a human. The thought of a full-blood mutant having those sorts of ideas about a human is utterly repulsing." Not sure whether to be relieved or annoyed, Raphael commented, "Glad ya think so."

"I only mean that she is obviously a very powerful bargaining chip," Bishop went on, turning away from Raphael and going into a slow, thoughtful pace. "So, I've come to a decision that will suit both your needs and my own. You want the girl turned back into a human. I can arrange that. We'll all go on a little field trip to my new base of operations where she will be administered the cure." Turning slowly towards Raphael again, he released a small, wicked smile. "Right after _you_ are."

Raphael couldn't think of anything to do but gawk at Bishop blankly. At length, he exclaimed, "Say what?" Bishop did not reply; instead, he turned away from his captive and began walking towards the door. "Hey!" Raphael called. "Hey, what do you mean, cured? Bishop! _Bishop_, damn you!"

Pounding on the glass door, Raphael tried not to panic. A cure? From someone who sees Raphael's mutation as a disease? _He's gonna try 'n reverse my mutation,_ Raphael realized with a chill. _By the time he's through with me, I'll be lucky to be sittin' in the bottom of an aquarium._

Trying to wrap his mind around this frightening thought, Raphael was startled by a sudden explosion coming from the doorway, followed by a thick cloud of black smoke. He thought he saw Bishop hit the floor, but the dense haze made it difficult to tell for sure. In the confusion, he quickly looked about for his sais, but to no avail. If this was some sort of rescue mission, he bitterly discovered he would have to be as cooperative as possible for it to work. He found that he didn't mind that so much, given the alternative.

Raphael could hear his brothers' voices, most definitively Leonardo's shouting out commands. He was surprised to hear a feminine voice in the mixture also, calling out to him. "Raphael? Raph?" He tried to look through the smoke, but by the time he could make out Allison's form, she was already directly in front of him, peering into the glass chamber. Seeing her black cape-like jacket and the ornamental stick she carried, he wryly asked, "Who do ya think you are; Super Rat?"

"Shut up, you jerk," was the response. "Just tell me how to get you out of here!" As Allison continued to peer about the containment unit for an opening, Raphael told her, "Ya think if I knew how to get outta here, I'd actually be standin' here now?" Allison took a step back and looked up to the top of Raphael's cell. "It looks like a hydraulic unit," she muttered. Donatello soon sped up behind her and surveyed the situation. "Definitely hydraulics," he remarked quickly as his brothers kept Bishop occupied. "Easily enough dealt with. I'll need a sharp object-"

"Here," Allison said, handing him a silver switchblade. Looking to Raphael, who seemed to recognize it, she smiled and spoke as Donatello began working. "And here you thought that I would use it to protect _myself_." Raphael was about to comment on the knife he had given her nearly a year ago, but Donatello instructed her to climb to the top of the encasement and pull open the hatch. Without a moment's hesitation, she began scrambling to the top of the glass prison.

At the top, Allison balanced herself on either end of the tube and pulled, trying to pry it open. It slowly gave way as Donatello fiddled with the hydraulic system. As soon as there was the slightest bit of an opening, Raphael was already jumping to the top, trying to climb out. With Allison's help, he was pulled free. Unfortunately, assisting Raphael to get up made her lose her balance, and Allison stumbled over to the side.

She felt a pair of strong arms come around her and break her fall. Just when she was about to thank her rescuer, she turned around and tensed up when she saw an unfamiliar man. It was at the same moment that she realized that he wasn't just holding her up… he was pinning her arms to her side and pulling her backwards. Something about his cold dark eyes and his strong angular body brought such a shiver to Allison that she realized that this man must be the infamous Agent Bishop.

Allison cried out and squirmed in his grasp, even as she realized that he was forcing her backwards, towards a previously-unseen exit. As she struggled, she managed to grasp her bo in both hands and flick the release, separating it into two ninjatō swords. "Let me _go_!" As she yelled at the man who thought he had the upper hand, she slammed one of her blades down on his foot. Though it was only a movie prop and not battle-ready, Allison's fear and determination was enough to drive it straight down.

Bishop let out a grunt and his grip slackened. Allison quickly drew back her sword and pivoted, meaning to face him off. She was shocked to see that Bishop seemed more annoyed than pained as he grabbed her fiercely by the shoulders. By the time she realized that he was getting ready to head butt her, his forehead already connected with hers.

She was out cold.

It was at this point that Raphael had just managed to find his sais on a nearby table and turned around. He had been alerted by Allison's initial cry, but had been certain that one of his brothers could stave off the imminent danger until he was properly armed. It wasn't until he saw Allison lying limply in Bishop's arms that he realized the room had become infested with more of Bishop's men, and everyone in the room was preoccupied.

Guiltily cursing himself for not protecting Allison, Raphael darted towards Bishop as he carried the unconscious mutant rat over his shoulder and out a door. Letting out a harsh yell, Raphael lunged forward with one of his sais, noting Bishop's limp. In the heat of the moment, he underestimated Bishop's renowned speed and nimbleness. Bishop spun around and revealed that he was carrying a taser in his free hand. The white heat from the gun stunned Raphael and sent him sprawling to the ground with another scream.

He dimly heard Leonardo calling his name. Raphael was almost sure that his brother was fighting to get to him, but hardly had the strength to hold himself up to his elbows, never mind pay attention to his surroundings. Another blast hit him, and as he faded out of consciousness it was clear that Bishop's weapon was placed at a setting far beyond "stun."

"Sir," said a black-clad man speeding towards Bishop from outside. "The chopper's ready." Putting his gun away, Bishop replied, "Good." The pilot looked down at the fallen green mass that Bishop was staring down at. He asked, "Part of the cargo?"

"Yes."

"What about the others?"

Bishop's sharp dark eyes looked back at the chaos surrounding the room. The one called Leonardo was indeed fighting desperately to get to Raphael, but he was intelligent enough to hide behind equipment as his opponents fired at him, coming out only when it was opportune. Donatello seemed more concerned with getting to Leonardo, perhaps to enable his brother the leeway to go after Bishop. Michelangelo seemed almost unaware of the risk as he also dodged laser blasts and swung his nunchucks at any moving target.

Bishop was no fool. He had one of them. Any attempt to gain the others right now might force him to forfeit his prize. "Leave them behind," he answered, turning around and carrying the mutated human outside towards the helicopter that was waiting for them. "One of them will do for now. Make sure the rest can't follow."

Michelangelo watched as Bishop left the room. Seeing him take Allison was one thing, but seeing two of his goons grab at Raphael and jerk him up and drag him away was something else completely. With a split-second calculation, he threw one of his nunchucks at one of the baddies' feet, tripping him up. His other 'chuck swung up and sent the three attackers that he was fighting flying. "I'm coming, Raph!"

Upon hearing Michelangelo's voice, Leonardo looked up from where he was shielding himself from the taser blasts. "Mikey, no!" It was too late. His brother was already catapulting towards the lone agent that was dragging their brother away, ignorant of the fact that all of the remaining men were now aiming at him. Donatello also saw this fatal mistake and reiterated Leonardo's warning.

The man with his ankles bound by the nunchucks was encouraging his companion to run for it. He raised his gun just as Michelangelo, hoping to get a tackle in from a long way off, dove for Raphael. The only thing he got was a paralytic blast right at his chest.

Leonardo could feel his skin crawl when he heard his brother's blood-curdling scream. Seeing that the enemy was retreating for the door, Leonardo swiftly emerged and ran to catch Michelangelo as the force of the blast sent him flying. He was hit in the stomach by Michelangelo's shell, but ignored the pain as he put his arms around him and took the full effect of the fall on himself.

Donatello had kept the glass containment unit between himself and the door, and so could see why everyone was backing off. The man that Bishop had been speaking to was removing an orb of sorts out of his pocket and was waving people out. Donatello, feeling that he somehow _always_ manages to get himself into situations like this, recognized it for what it was: a detonator.

With Leonardo preoccupied with Michelangelo, Donatello knew that he had to keep the explosive as far away from them as possible, and knew that his timing had to be precise. The man edged away towards the exit and, aiming towards the pair of turtles on the floor, threw the explosive.

As soon as Donatello registered where the bomb was being aimed, he darted out. As though he were playing a game of baseball, he used his bo as a bat and intercepted the bomb, sending it back towards where Bishop and his men had escaped. He knew that he wouldn't be able to clear them completely from the explosion, and so he sheathed his bo and grabbed Michelangelo. "C'mon," he told Leonardo. "Let's get out of here!"

Though his mind was buzzing with worry over Michelangelo and Raphael and Allison, Leonardo's sense of responsibility kept him from panicking. Together, he and Donatello carried their unconscious brother towards the door through which they had forced their way in less than two minutes ago. Whether they actually heard something or acted upon reflex, both of them dove simultaneously just as the bomb went off.

A bright flare flashed through the darkened building, visible from within the helicopter flying above in the night sky. Bishop sternly stared down at the exploding wing of one of his many bases as the men on the ground scattered. The pilot glanced down at the commotion. "Think you got them?"

Bishop remained silent for a long time. "No," he finally answered. He turned his head and saw the two unconscious mutants laid haphazardly on the ground. He couldn't help but let out a ghost of a smile.

"But soon, I'll have all of them."


	7. Chapter 7

"Raph? …Donnie?"

Seeing only a dark sky above him, Michelangelo awoke in a confused daze. He vaguely remembered wanting to ensure Raphael's safety, but couldn't remember from what or what had happened. Turning his head, Michelangelo saw that he was lying on the grass in what appeared to be the middle of nowhere. Looking towards the other side, he saw Donatello and Leonardo engaged in a heated conversation.

When Michelangelo managed to roll onto his side and get himself to his knees, his brothers ceased their worried discourse and looked at him. "Hey," Donatello said, walking slowly over to him. "You okay?"

Michelangelo groaned as Donatello took hold of his arm and helped him to his feet. "I feel like I just got punched in the stomach by the not-so-Jolly Green Giant," he responded. "Oh, man." Slowly, scenes from the night came back to him. Allison was in trouble. Raphael had been captured. Bishop was involved. He groaned again. "I wanna go back to Dream Land now."

"We would've left you back at Allison's," Leonardo told him as the three of them regrouped, "but her car resembles a piece of Swiss cheese." Donatello nodded in agreement, adding rather forlornly, "Yeah. That, and we don't even know how to get back."

"Great, guys," Michelangelo muttered sarcastically. "Just great. We were all whiny about the heat wave and the constant butt kicking we had to do, so we come here and get ourselves kidnapped, shot at, and hopelessly lost. Whose bright idea was it to come to California, anyway?"

In unison, Leonardo and Donatello replied, "Yours."

Having realized this as soon as the words had left his mouth, Michelangelo shrugged, causing him to wince. "And you all listened to me," he said accusingly. "What a bunch of geniuses."

"Well, there _is_ good news to this situation," Donatello admitted, removing his shell cell from his belt. "I managed to put a turtle tracer on one of Bishop's goons before all heck broke loose, and according to the blip I'm getting on my screen, the explosion didn't damage it."

"Sweet!" Michelangelo exclaimed. "So we know where they're headed! Let's get going." Leonardo stopped him before he could get too excited. "That's the bad news. We have no transportation, remember? Allison's car is shot, _literally_, and one of our shell cycle is back at her place, while the other one is at the labs. It took us twenty minutes to get here by car and we crossed some major freeways, so even if we _knew_ where we were going, it would take a miracle for us not to be seen."

Taking all of this in, Michelangelo remarked, "Bro, I wouldn't wanna go against the fearless leader, but… this is _Raph_. Our brother. Raph and Bishop. Our bro and one of our worst enemies. And this is _California_. Weird people always walk up and down the street, anyway."

As Leonardo was about to argue, Donatello spoke up. "You know, it's not every day that I say this, but Mikey's got a point. Every second we waste might just be the difference between life and death for Raph, and maybe even for Allison. We can never tell with Bishop. I'm gonna go sprint over to Allison's car and see if I can't save it, at least until we can find our way back to her place and get the shell cycle."

Before Leonardo could make a case, Donatello and Michelangelo were headed back towards the car.

------------------------

Meanwhile, many miles away, Allison was also making her way towards consciousness.

She groaned deep in her throat and tried to move, only to realize that she was tied down. Opening her eyes and squinting in the brightness of the room, Allison looked down and saw that she was on some sort of table that was tilted at a forty-five degree angle, her wrists, waist, and legs strapped down. Knowing that she wasn't currently strong enough to pull herself free, Allison decided to save her strength and tried to observe her surroundings.

She soon realized that the room was actually relatively dim, but a harsh white light was beamed directly at her eyes. It gave her a headache, but she nevertheless continued to squint about. She could make out what looked like another table some feet directly across from her, skewed in the same fashion. It didn't take long for Allison to distinguish Raphael's green skin as he lay limply on his table.

"Raphael," she whispered, gently. Were the others there as well? She peered about, but saw no one else. Why only him? What was Bishop's interest in him? And why was she taken, as well? Donatello had only told her that they had encountered Agent Bishop and to be careful of him. She had recognized the name as being associated with the outbreak virus, and this terrified her. Was she to be used in some kind of experiment? And Raphael… was she somehow responsible for what happened to him or what will happen? "Raphael," she said more urgently. "Raphael, wake up. Please, wake up."

There was no reaction for some time, making Allison flustered. Just as she thought the worst, she thought she saw his head move. "Raphael," she called again. "Raphael, it's Allison. Please, if you can hear me, lift your head. Please." She could feel hot tears dampen the fur beneath her eyes as her panic mounted.

Finally, Raphael softly mumbled, "Quit worryin'; I'm alive." Despite the brusqueness of his words, Allison did indeed calm down. He was alive and capable of speech. Somehow, that made their predicament seem a little less dire. That is, until she heard a voice speak over an unseen loudspeaker.

"Agent Bishop, the mutants are awake. Continue as planned."

Raphael lifted his head up at the sound of the voice. With the bright light shining upon Allison, he could see her look about the room, but probably to no avail. Looking her over, he saw that the jacket that she had been wearing was gone, as she was probably carrying more weapons within the pockets. With a small smirk, Raphael thought, _Heh. You can take the girl outta New York, but you can't take the New York outta the girl._

He heard a _swish_ from behind him, and gathered that this was one of Bishop's fancy mechanized doors sliding open. Steady, purposeful footfalls could be heard approaching him, and he saw Allison crane her neck and try to catch a glimpse at the new arrivals. Raphael could distinguish two sets of footsteps; judging by the metallic sound of one, he judged that he would get to see an old friend.

"Well, look here. If it isn't the arrogant one." Raphael narrowed his eyes at the robotic remains of Dr. Baxter Stockman as it stepped into view. "How very fortuitous. I always hoped that if I could only destroy one of you freaks, it would be the muscle-bound idiot."

"Arrogant and freaks," Raphael repeated as Bishop walked past him and continued on towards Allison. "Ever heard the sayin' about people with glass houses, buckethead?"

Allison eyed the man approaching her warily. Seeing him up close, she could see that there was an odd kind of sophisticated wickedness emanating from him. She recalled hearing him being referred to as a snake, and that was exactly the word she would use for him as he seemed to slither towards her. As she noted his walk, she realized what it was that she found so odd about him from the moment he came in; though she clearly remembered slamming her blade down straight through his foot, he walked with no limp.

"Interesting," the man remarked after studying her face for a moment. "Though the tests we ran show that you have all of the signs of other victims of the outbreak, you seem capable of thought and reason. How long ago were you initially infected?"

Allison stared at him coldly before moving her eyes to look up at Raphael. She saw that he was observing the exchange between the two of them, suspicious of everything Bishop said and did. "You would be better off answering my questions, Miss Grayson," Bishop told her as she responded with only another indignant look. "From what I know, you're only an innocent human being, in which case you should not fear me unless you prove to stand in the way of the completion of my goals. My questions are for my own scientific records only, and are necessary to be sure that this does not happen to anyone else. So, Miss Grayson, tell me, how long ago were you infected?"

Allison swallowed with difficulty. She didn't have much of choice in the matter, and the question seemed innocent enough. If he asked something that she would prefer not to answer…. "About ten months ago. More or less."

"Capable of coherent speech, as well," Bishop noticed with what seem like a touch of satisfaction. "Very good. How did you contract it?" It was here that Allison paused again, but did not look back up to Raphael, lest Bishop read something into it. Her best friend Robert had, apparently, come in contact with an infected creature, and he was the one who had in turn given her the virus. If she brought Robert up, would Bishop demand to see him, as well? She couldn't do that. She couldn't risk destroying Robert and his family, especially since he was given such a higher dosage of the cure and didn't even remember his transformation.

"There was an animal in the sewers," Allison answered, hoping to eliminate Robert as the middleman and take on his side of the story. "I was running away from something and ran into a creature that looked like a giant cockroach. It cut my side and I changed in less than an hour."

"Was this creature destroyed?"

"Yes."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes. Trust me. The creature no longer exists."

Bishop paused for a moment, considering her answer. Allison was thankful that her fur-covered face prevented many of her facial features from showing, for she gathered that Bishop would not think twice about making her pay for lying to him about the involvement of another person. Finally, he seemed to satisfy himself with this answer and asked, "Do you remember what happened to you once you were infected?"

Allison replied that she did not, but Bishop pressed on. "Pain," she relented. "Lots of pain. I could feel my flesh reshaping itself and it felt like my mind was drowning. There was one moment of clarity, a split-second… but it was gone as fast as it came."

"You were an animal," Bishop offered, his voice low. "A mindless, soulless animal. No different from _him_." Though Bishop did not motion towards Raphael, it was plain that the reference was made to him.

Allison lunged forward in anger, her restraints biting into her skin. "Does he _look_ mindless to you? Does he? You're the one without a soul, the one who _created_ this virus in the first place!" Here, Bishop interrupted her. "Actually, the credit for the outbreak virus belongs to Dr. Stockman here."

"Yes," the robot said, stepping up besides Bishop. "My apologies if the virus has reduced your chances of obtaining any kind of social life, but given the riffraff you associate with now, I doubt that your Friday nights have changed much." Allison blinked at the thing referred to as Dr. Stockman. "This? You pal around with a robot who looks like the twin brother of the can opener from _Short Circuit_?"

"For your information," Stockman answered huffily, "I was once quite a dashing sight to see, until your group of meddlesome reptiles fouled up my entire _life_." Stockman had raised his voice and approached Allison, but Bishop raised a hand to stop him.

"Let us for once stay on topic, shall we?" Bishop requested, turning back to Allison. Raphael murmured something about Stockman under his breath, but Bishop ignored him as he continued his interrogation. "Now then, recently, what sorts of symptoms have you been experiencing?"

Allison repressed a growl from the back of her throat, but still went on to give him the same explanation she had given the turtles, about the cramps and hair growth. As Bishop continued to question her, she felt as though she was visiting a doctor's office. Her answers came mechanically, though her mind was really focused on Raphael. Other than the brief mutters before, he had not said much. This was uncharacteristic for him, and Allison hoped that he hadn't been seriously injured or drugged. Given the fact that Bishop claimed to want to help her and yet even _she_ was tied up, she was loath to think of what might have been done to Raphael.

"I see," Bishop said after about five minutes of questioning. "I think this should prove to be simple enough. Stockman, prepare two samples of the cure and bring them in." As the android went off, Allison blinked up at Bishop. "Two? Why two?" Bishop only smiled grimly and turned away, ignoring her further questions. Thoroughly baffled, Allison pondered over why a double dosage was needed.

Suddenly, Bishop stopped. "One final question, Miss Grayson." He turned to look at her over his shoulder and asked, "What were you running away from?" Confused, Allison asked him to elucidate. Bishop turned to face her once more and sternly asked, "You claimed to have been running away from something in the sewers when you were infected. What was chasing you?"

It was clear to Allison that Bishop was trying to catch her in a lie by going over a mundane detail in her story. Luckily, she didn't have to lie, as she knew what Robert had been running from. "A monster. We called him the Rat King." Bishop raised an eyebrow and asked her for more information about this "Rat King." Not liking the interested look on his face, she replied, "He looked like a normal man, but he was impossibly fast and covered in bandages. He looked like a mummy who hung around with giant rats."

Bishop remained quiet for a long time, seeming to fall deep into thought. Allison wondered if there was some sort of correlation between Bishop's work and this Rat King. Could the Rat King have been a victim of an early stage of the virus, which affected his mind and his relationship to the rats? Allison couldn't be sure, and the sudden wide grin from Bishop made her wonder if she ever wanted to know.

Bishop laughed, loud and long. Having never even seen him smile, this laughter struck Allison as unexpected and unwelcome. When he finally quieted down, he walked closer to the perturbed rat, who gazed at him warily. "Tell me," he said lowly, leaning in towards her and placing a hand on either side of Allison's head. "What happened to this 'Rat King'?"

Fearing that there _was_ some relation between the two monsters and that she may have just been caught in a lie, Allison stuttered, "H-he died. L-leo-… One of the turtles killed him before he could send their master to kill me." Bishop released a half-smile that almost made him look boyish. "In Central Park, I assume?"

Allison was aghast. How did he know? Was he… did they…? "Yes," she answered, not bothering to hide it. If she was found out, then she was found out. He chuckled, leaving Allison to stare at his face with nothing to say. The more she stared, the more she felt as though she had met him before. There was something oddly familiar about him, but she hadn't been sure if it was simply an effect of his nondescript physical appearance. Now… with him chuckling diabolically right into her face… she wondered if it were possible that….

"I see," Bishop said after his laughter subsided. Backing away from Allison, he looked at her with an odd twinkle in his eye. "Well then, that certainly answers _that_ question." His statement only caused more questions to arise in Allison's mind, but she didn't voice them. Between having mutated and being kidnapped and tied up and talking to a conceited robot, she was pretty sure that she had enough for one day.

Bishop turned again, and this time walked quickly and purposefully out of the room. As far as she could tell, it seemed that he was completely unaware that, during their entire conversation, she had been slowly using her claws to tear through the leather straps. Knowing that someone was watching her through some sort of surveillance camera, she only ripped them enough so that she would be able to pull her way out when the opportune moment arose, whenever that may be.

She glanced back at Raphael. He was trying to peer behind him, as though listening to be sure that Bishop had really left. A look into his face told Allison that he wasn't exactly in top form. He had very clearly been drugged, as Bishop must have known that Raphael was strong enough to get himself free, especially when he was incensed.

"Raphael." At the sound of her voice, Raphael slowly turned to look at her with droopy eyes. In the same way she used to talk to her coworkers who had gotten drunk when they weren't supposed to, she said, "It's gonna be alright." Raphael let out a smirk and responded, "Of course it is." His voice was muddled, forcing Allison to strain her ears to hear him. She was all the more surprised when she heard him say,

"It's always alright when we're together."


	8. Chapter 8

"Huh? Wh… uh… hello?"

"Casey, it's April." Casey blinked the sleep out of his eyes and sat up in his easy chair. "April? Jeez, what's the big idea? It's nearly one in the mornin'-" His complaint was abruptly cut off by an unexpected question from April. "How much money do you have on your credit card?"

Completely flabbergasted by the late call and the strange question, Casey grabbed the remote control and shut off the television he had fallen asleep to. "Credit card? I dunno. Maybe a little less than a thousand? I only use it when I go Christmas sh-"

"I'll be at your place in ten minutes. Pack a bag."

At this, Casey stood and ran a hand through his hair. April, inviting herself over in the middle of the night? "A bit last-minute for a romantic getaway, ain't it?" Casey asked only somewhat sarcastically.

From the sound of it, April was already in her car and driving towards his apartment. Trying to keep her voice level, she stated, "There's a red eye to LA with two seats left on it, leaving in less than an hour. This isn't the time to fool around, Casey Jones."

"Whoa, whoa," Casey breathed out, pacing about his living room as he tried to understand her. "Red eye?" April explained that a red eye is the last flight out, and Casey interrupted her. "Yeah, yeah, I know what it _is_. The question is, why are we takin' a red eye to LA? Do ya miss the guys already or somethin'?"

"Are you packing a bag?" Judging by the sound of her voice, Casey thought it was in his best interest to go to his closet and get his duffel bag as he answered in the affirmative. "Pack some leather gloves," April went on. "Work gloves. A pair for me too, if you've got them. Rope too, so we could use it as a restraint if we need to."

She was about to go on when Casey finally jumped in. "Okay, hold on, let's back track a sec, okay? Leather gloves in August? Ropes for restraint? C'mon, April, what the heck is goin' on?" April paused for a moment, seeming somewhat irritated by Casey's question, but decided that it was best that he not be left in the dark.

"I got a call from Allison Grayson over an hour ago. It didn't sound like her, though, and she kept saying that she needed the turtles and more medicine. I called Donnie about this and he seemed to agree with me that this means that she might've mutated back into a rat again. I asked him to call me back once they figure out what's up, and I haven't heard anything from him."

Taking all of this in, Casey suggested, "Maybe he just forgot. Or maybe they haven't gotten there yet. Or maybe-" Yet again, April cut him off in her anxiousness. "Casey, quit it with your stupid 'maybes!' The way Raph drives, at least two of them would have made it to her place in all of this time. Once they found out nothing was wrong, Donnie would've called me. And if I call him, he'll try to convince me that he doesn't need our help."

"Maybe he don't."

There was a long moment of silence, and it was during this quiet that Casey realized he must have said something stupid. "Ever heard of a thing called women's intuition?" April asked at length. Casey leaned on the doorframe to his bedroom and tried not to groan. "You telling me you're gonna drag me across the country just because you got a 'bad feelin' about this?'"

"Look Casey," April said, obviously getting fed up, "you remember the way Donnie and the others talked about how dangerous Allison was in her transformation. Sharp reflexes, high jumps, and strong enough to toss Mikey across the room. If that happened again, and she's able to smell the turtles approaching from way off, how sure can we be that all of the guys are okay? This is Bishop's virus, and it might even have been a trap, for all we know. I'd rather be safe than sorry, and if anything _is_ going on, I know I can't handle it all myself and don't want to let on to Splinter that there might be any trouble. But if you'd rather sleep while watching the Mets, then let me know and I'll take the next exit straight to JFK."

Casey listened to April's monologue, knowing that there was no way she was going to back down. "For your information," he told her, "it was the Yankees." April groaned, frustrated, and Casey tried not to chuckle over the phone. So April was watching out for her friends. Nothing wrong about that. Besides, a quick trip to California, though not all too great for his credit card, would be fantastic for him. Especially if April decided to scout for dangerous mutants by a beach. In a bikini.

"Alright already," he nearly laughed. "Come and get me."

---------------------------------------

An engine suddenly came to life in the darkness.

Leonardo and Michelangelo looked up. Donatello had been tinkering with Allison's car for about twenty minutes, and the grin that emerged as he sat in the driver's seat with the engine revving told them that he had finally been successful. "It's about time, bro," Michelangelo commented, standing up from the ground and brushing off his legs. "The ants and mosquitoes were just about to get a lot more green in their diets."

"I still say we should call April or Casey," Leonardo said as he followed Michelangelo to the car. "April's computer resources could come in pretty handy, and even Casey's temper would be able to square off the fact that Raph's missing."

Donatello shook his head as his brothers piled into the car. "I told you already, it's better off that they don't know. April would only worry, and Casey would be blinded with revenge if he knew that Raph was hurt. Besides, it would take them five hours to get here, at least. By then, we'll either have this thing fixed… or it might be too late."

As Donatello started driving, all of the turtles tried not to think of what was meant by "too late." Raphael being abducted was bad enough; they didn't want anything worse to happen to him, especially since they all felt partially guilty for it. Donatello for not being able to protect him at the labs, Leonardo for not being more aggressive when Raphael was being taken away, and Michelangelo for not succeeding to get to his brother just before getting shot. In the back of their minds, they worried for Allison as well, but this was a different sort of worry. In Allison's case, they risk losing an innocent person due to her mere involvement with them, whereas losing Raphael would be losing one of their own. Both appropriate reasons for guilt, and both occurring simultaneously. In the preliminary silence, Leonardo could suddenly see why Donatello refused to get more people involved.

"If we drive up this road that I saw you and Allison arrive from," Donatello said, getting the car turned around, "then maybe we'll pass by the AJB labs and the two of you can grab the shell cycle me and Raph left there. If that's the case, I'll stay at the labs and see what else I can find around there, since there's a good chance that Bishop's men moved out once they were discovered. You guys go back to Allison's and bring the second shell cycle back to pick me up, and we'll go on from there."

"No," Leonardo said resolutely from the passenger seat. "There's _no_ way that I'm letting us get separated again. I'll grab the shell cycle and follow the car back to Allison's place. If we need anything other than what we've got on us, I'm sure that Allison's got a well-stocked arsenal, even if they _are_ all movie props."

"Arsenal?" Donatello blinked. "Allison?" Michelangelo nodded behind him, leaning in from the backseat. "For sure, bro. Where do you think she got the phlegmatic mercury from?" Sparing Michelangelo a wry glance through the rearview mirror, Donatello corrected, "That's 'mercuric fulminate,' Mikey."

Turning back to Leonardo, Donatello continued, "Okay, fine. If she's got anything else in her apartment that we can use, we'll bring it along. Depending on how far away Bishop's men take her and Raph, we might have to use the helicopter anyway. Searching her place will give us some time to get a steady blip and I'll be able to do an Internet search to see what kind of things we can expect from this new base."

"The same thing we can always expect," Leonardo declared. "The unexpected."

---------------------------------------

Allison started as she heard a door slide open.

Part of her surprise stemmed from the very fact that she had managed to doze off. What time was it? The sun had barely set when she and the turtles went to rescue Raphael… could more than a few hours have passed?

A quick movement in front of her caught her eye, and Allison realized that Raphael was shaking his head firmly. Hopefully, this meant that the drugs were wearing off. Allison hoped that this was true all the more when she saw Bishop come into view, a syringe in each hand.

"Ah, you're both awake," Bishop observed, standing in between the two of them and shifting his focus between each mutant. "Good. I was afraid you'd be unconscious for this part." Allison's first instinct was to fight against her bonds once again and yell at him, but she decided against it for a number of reasons. One, this man might just be her only chance of regaining her normal human body. Any effort to antagonize him might just condemn her to the form of a rat for the rest of her life. And secondly, her survival tactics hadn't changed. She still thought it best to never let the bad guy know that you're as strong as you really are. If she could only catch him with his guard down….

Raphael, of course, was not hindered by the hope of salvation through Bishop, nor did he ever let his opponents think him weak… even if he _was_. "Yeah, I bet you already fixed up some popcorn for this, haven't ya, dirtbag?"

Bishop ignored him, focusing his attention on Allison for a moment. "You are aware, of course, Miss Grayson, that certain security measures will have to be taken after you're injected with the serum?" Being a writer, Allison knew that the term "security measures" never meant good things when coming from one of the bad guys. "What do you mean?"

"Confidentiality," Bishop stated blankly. "You don't honestly expect us to simply let you walk out of here and risk you spreading some horrific lies about my organization, do you?" Allison clenched her fists, trying to maintain the anger that was brewing in both her and Raphael. "Lies?" Allison asked incredulously. "You kidnapped my friend and knocked me unconscious! I'm strapped down to a table in God-knows-where and-"

"Precisely," Bishop continued, as though she hadn't spoken at all. "So if you must lie, it should at least be to my benefit, hm?" Allison blinked up at him. At first confused, she became terrified when she grew aware of the presence of two other people coming in behind Bishop. Both men were dressed in lab coats. One had yet another syringe in his hand.

Having seen far too many science fiction movies than she should have, Allison knew right away what Bishop's intentions were. "You're going to brainwash me," she breathed, glaring at Bishop as her claws continued to discreetly work the leather straps. "What, wipe my memory? Subliminal messaging to believe that the turtles are evil and you're my strutting hero? Make me forget about my mutation entirely?"

"Maybe he'll make ya forget you were ever _human_."

Allison turned her eyes over to Raphael, disdainfully aware of the fact that Bishop kept his eyes trained on her. "Maybe he'll make ya think that you were born a rat, and his scientific genius turned ya into a human," Raphael continued, his voice still somewhat clouded. "Then he could gain your blind loyalty, the way Karai follows the Shredder around because she thinks that _he _has something to do with who she is inside. Or maybe he'll keep ya as a rat, as some kinda constant in his little experiments. A little pet that he could prod whenever he needs to come up with a new thesis, no different from that turtle you've got in your tank in your room." He paused for only a brief moment before accusingly adding, "That's what he's got planned for _me_, anyway."

Allison's mouth began to hang open as Bishop's focus shifted over to Raphael. Little pet turtle? What he's got planned for Raphael? Her eyes followed the two syringes in Bishop's hands. _Two_ of them. One presumably for her… and the other for Raphael. Raphael was his test subject. Good God, what had she done?

"You?" Bishop asked Raphael with a satisfied smirk. "Don't flatter yourself. After all of the trouble you and your fellow miscreants put me through, the first thing I'll do to you is relish the feel of your shell crushing underneath my heel." He was approaching Raphael slowly as he spoke, leaving Allison with his back. He stopped directly in front of the turtle as he lowered his voice. "The second thing I'll do is scrape up whatever's left of you and flush it down into the sewer, in hopes that that _teacher_ of yours may one day come across them and know exactly what happened."

The visual images brought forth by Bishop's words sickened Allison. "You _bastard_!" She then made a fatal mistake. Swiftly lunging forward, she broke through her severed wrist restraints, clawed away the rest of the straps, and stumbled for Bishop, showing that she was indeed stronger than he had thought. The two men in lab coats darted for her, but they were clumsy and inattentive.

As she dove for Bishop, he suddenly whirled around. Though he didn't seem worried, he was certainly caught unaware and was forced to rely on bare instinct. He brought his right hand up and managed to stab Allison in the chest with one of the syringes, injecting her with the serum.

She jolted to a stop in front of him, using her momentum to shove him away, succeeding in knocking him to the ground. She was only a few inches away from Raphael, who gaped at her with concern. "Allison," she could hear him call, not seeing that his hands were trying to stretch out to her against their restraints. "Allison, you okay?"

Yanking the needle out of her skin, Allison was shocked. She could already feel something changing inside of her. Was it supposed to happen this quickly? She ended up losing her balance and crashing against Raphael. As she slid down to the floor, she could hear Bishop's voice, though his words became difficult for her to discern.

"The little fool," Bishop sneered as he stood and looked at the rat slinking to the ground. "She doesn't know what she's just gotten herself into." He moved behind the creature and grabbed a fistful of her fur just behind her neck. He turned and meant to tell the two medical personnel that were standing stupidly behind him to go and prepare the room he had set aside for her, but he realized the girl wasn't moving as he jerked her backwards.

Turning to look, Bishop saw that Raphael had managed to grab hold of the girl's wrists, and they were holding onto each other as though for dear life. "You're not gonna get her, Bishop," Raphael growled. "I swear it." Raising an eyebrow, Bishop asked, "Oh? And I suppose you plan on stopping me?"

The girl suddenly leaned back in towards Raphael, whispering something to the turtle as her hands slowly dropped to his feet. With a final vicious jerk, Bishop finally managed to send the girl sprawling ahead of him, near the two men who seemed too afraid to move. "Hold her down," he ordered. "She's going to undergo some… discomfort."

No sooner had the words left his mouth that the rat begin to squirm on the ground, her pained vocalizations proving that it was more than just some "discomfort." The two medical personnel scrambled to grab an arm each as Allison began to change, her fur beginning to slowly drip off her body.

"Well," Bishop said, adjusting his glasses on the ridge of his nose. "I suppose I've settled my side of the bargain." He turned back to the turtle, a sort of sadistic amusement in his eyes as he held up the remaining syringe. "Time for you to go back to the way Nature intended."

"I couldn't agree more."

Grateful that Allison had managed to tear a good way through his straps before Bishop had managed to pull her away, Raphael wrenched himself free and sucker punched Bishop in the jaw. Bishop was thrown off-target just long enough for Raphael to pull himself completely free of the table.

Despite the blinding pain she felt, Allison didn't want to end up tied onto another slab as her brain was being reprogrammed. While she still had the sharp teeth, she managed to bite one of her captors in the arm. As he screamed, Allison repressed the urge to vomit as the hot blood flowed into her mouth. She felt the strange sensation of her teeth actually dulling down to their normal shape, so she knew she had to be quick.

Not a moment after Raphael was able to walk on his own two legs, Bishop threw himself at the turtle, hoping to get another shot with the injection as he had unintentionally done with Allison. Not liking the image of bits of his shell being embedded into the bottom of Bishop's shoe, Raphael was even quicker on his feet than usual. Expecting Bishop's reinforcements at every turn, he somersaulted backwards. The wasted energy in his missed tackle caused Bishop to stumble, allowing Raphael to get in a kick to the man's chest. He didn't expect this to actually slow Bishop down at all, and he was disappointed to see that his expectations were met.

Allison managed to yank her right side free of the bitten man in the lab coat. These two were obviously _not_ meant for fighting, and she hoped to get past them before the real fighters stormed in. Throwing her free hand towards the man clinging to her left arm, Allison hoped that her claws were strong enough to tear through his flesh. Luckily enough, they were. She had never been more grateful for having a strong stomach than she was when she realized that she had just stuck her nails through this man's jugular.

Bishop swung a fist at Raphael, catching him just off the shoulder as the turtle dodged. Raphael tried not to stumble, but his senses were still scrambled from the drugs or whatever had been done to him to subdue him. He flipped on the ground, doing a quick visual search for Allison. He was surprised to see that she had managed to triumph over her would-be captives and was trembling on all fours. Knowing that they needed to make a break for it, Raphael sped to Allison and lifted her up over his shoulder.

"C'mon kid," he grunted, continuously moving towards the door. "Playtime's over." He could feel her grip onto his shell and noted that her entire body was clenched with pain. Trying to push away his sympathy until he could get them somewhere somewhat safe, Raphael continued to make his way for the door. He was thankful that he only needed to push a button to get it to swish open.

Hoping that his instincts would lead him somewhere better than here, Raphael plunged blindly ahead. His hopes disappeared immediately when he felt a sudden sting on his left shoulder. Though he kept running, he staggered and risked a look behind him. Bishop was lowering a strange-looking gun and staring after the escaping mutant pair with a sense of victory. Reaching behind him, Raphael felt for what had been driven into his shoulder and pulled it out.

Though half of it still remained in the syringe, Raphael realized that he had just been shot with the "cure."


	9. Chapter 9

"Man, this stuff is incredible."

Such was Michelangelo's remark when he and his brothers examined the collection of props and weaponry in the display case in Allison's living room. "Half of this stuff doubles as something else. I bet she's got a pair of 'chucks that turn into smart bombs or something."

Stepping up besides him and removing a small suede drawstring bag from a shelf, Leonardo commented, "Whatever she's got had better be smart. If the three of us try to storm a military base with just the shell on our backs, it's not going to be much of a fight." He opened the bag and removed one of its contents: a black shuriken. Testing the point, he was disappointed to discover that they were not battle-ready. He kept them with him nonetheless. It was, after all, better than nothing.

"Hang tight, guys," Donatello called from Allison's bedroom. "This computer's running a bit slow, so it's taking me longer to steal the information I need. A few minutes more and I'll have everything but an engraved invitation from Bishop himself."

"I don't doubt it," Leonardo stated, continuing his observations of Allison's weaponry as he took hold of a pair of crimson-handled butterfly knives. "My hunch is that Bishop's _hoping_ we'll drop in on his little party. Raph's not any more of a thorn in his side than we are, so it's likely that he just took the first one of us he could and is almost _waiting_ for us to show up for a rescue."

"If that's the case," Michelangelo spoke up, "then I think you should start cracking on some kind of strategy, o fearless leader." Sheathing the knives and keeping them on his person as well, Leonardo told him, "Hey, it's not that simple. Give me a floor plan, and _then_ I can have a go at giving you a game plan."

"Whoa," Michelangelo gasped, removing a weapon from the display case, "check this out! A mace! This chick's got a mace! Y'think I should take it with us?" Michelangelo attempted to swing the heavy spiked ball on its chain, succeeding only in narrowly missing his brother's head. From Allison's room, Donatello pointed out, "Giving Mikey a mace is like letting Raph drive a busload of children to summer camp."

"Duly noted," Leonardo responded, taking the mace away from his brother and carefully setting it back in its place. "Let's try and keep your weapons simple, Mikey. See if she's got a slingshot."

Michelangelo almost pouted as he asked, "Hey, do I _look_ like Dennis the Menace or something?" Nevertheless, he gave up on the mace and crouched down, looking down at the bottom shelves of the cabinet. These were mostly Allison's small collection of miniatures and dice for role playing. At the thought of possibly never being able to play Dungeons and Dragons with somebody who might just be able to appreciate the finer points of a roguish elf, Michelangelo stood and walked into Allison's bedroom.

"Hey Donnie, mind going a bit slower?" Michelangelo asked sarcastically. "I don't think we gotta rush or anything." Donatello didn't even spare his brother a glance as his fingers flew over the keyboard. "I'm doing my best, Mikey," Donatello answered inattentively. "Allison was never much of a computer person, so she didn't have anything more advanced than basic AOL on this thing. I'm probably doing more things on it than she even knew possible."

Seeing the three-dimensional plans that Donatello was browsing through on the monitor, Michelangelo didn't doubt him. Walking up behind his brother, Michelangelo gazed into the screen in mild awe. "Trippy graphics. Think you can turn it into a computer game?" Printing out several pages, Donatello gave Michelangelo a sideways glance. "If we survive the week, I'll give it a thought."

"Don't say that, Don." Donatello stood to move to the printer and saw that Leonardo was standing at the doorway, mostly shrouded by the shadows. The apartment was still dark, as none of the turtles wanted to risk drawing any kind of attention to themselves. "Raph's gotten himself in some pretty tight fixes over the years, so I'm hoping that that means he's fine. As for us, there's no reason why we shouldn't triumph over Bishop so long as we work together. Master Splinter's been drilling that into our heads our whole lives; let's have a little faith, huh?"

Before his brothers could contemplate these words, Leonardo held out something in his hand to Michelangelo. "Found something I thought you might like." Puzzled, Michelangelo stepped towards Leonardo and took hold of the outstretched item. It looked like a pickaxe with a ball and short chain attached. "It's called a kusarigama," Leonardo explained. "Similar enough to your nunchucks to be familiar, but with the added bonus of a blade."

"Kusariwhatta?" Michelangelo blinked. Looking down at it, he tested the weight of it in his hand. Though it looked bizarre, it wasn't very heavy and seemed to feel natural in his grip. As quickly as he decided most things, Michelangelo decided that he liked it. "Man, you would think Allison was prepping for an attack of evil samurai or something."

Leonardo stepped into the room. He was carrying a small wooden box and placed it on the desk, next to the printer that was spitting out blueprints. "More of that mercuric fulminate, it looks like," he told Donatello. "I figured you'd probably come up with a better use for them than me or Mikey."

Nodding, Donatello took the box and gave Leonardo the numerous sheets of ground plans in exchange. "These are all of the details I could find from the location that the turtle tracer's led me to. It's not a complete guarantee that we'll find Bishop there, but we can almost definitely find someone that we could coerce into giving us that information."

Leonardo took a glance at the plans and sat down at Allison's desk. "About how far away is this?" Donatello replied that it would be a five-hour drive, but their helicopter should get them there in a little over half an hour. Looking back down at the maps and plans, Leonardo asked, "Er… am I reading this right, Donnie?"

Knowing what Leonardo was inquiring about, Donatello glanced up from the box of mercuric fulminate capsules and nodded. "I'm guessing you are, Leo. Seems a bit _too_ coincidental, doesn't it?" Michelangelo, who had been swinging his new weapon about, looked back at his two brothers. "Coincidental? Uh-oh, why do I feel like I'm out of the loop?"

Leonardo slowly shook his head, still looking down at the papers in his hand. "You're not just _out_ of the loop. You're about to be _thrown_ for a loop." Looking up at Michelangelo, Leonardo turned the document over to face the other turtle. "This map is leading us straight to a place called Bishop, California."

Michelangelo was dumfounded. It took him only a moment to catalog this information and let out a startled squeal. "Since when did _he_ get a town named after him!"

"Since the mid-19th century, apparently," was the response from Donatello. "I checked it out, and it all seems perfectly legitimate. It's in one of the largest counties in the country. And the founder, Samuel Bishop, doesn't look like he's related to Agent Bishop. Then again, it _has_ been about seven generations since then, so there's always the off-chance…."

"Hey," Michelangelo suddenly brought up. "How'd you get a tracer on that goon, anyway?" Not letting Donatello answer, he steamrollered on. "Maybe this is Bishop's way of messin' with us. I wouldn't put it past him, you know." Surprised by Michelangelo's pondering, Leonardo agreed. "He _has_ played some sneaky tricks in the past. And if this information is getting to us easily, it might be safe to assume that this is some kind of trap." Michelangelo cringed. "I hate it when you use the t-word. Every time you use the t-word, something always goes-"

"Oh crud," Donatello breathed lowly.

Michelangelo whipped his head over to his other brother. "Crud? Oh crud? Look, unless 'Oh Crud' is the name of the street we need to get to, I don't wanna hear it!" In a softer yet equally worried voice, Leonardo stood and asked what was wrong.

Donatello glanced over at the computer, saying nothing. Finally, he moved past Leonardo and sat down at it, typing away furiously once again. "I had to lower Allison's firewalls to be able to access some of the programs I use at the lair. So for a few minutes, just as I could have been searching for the plans for this new facility… someone could've had open access to everything _here_."

The turtles blinked at one another in silence. Their immobility was broken when they caught the sound of a helicopter off in the distance. Donatello turned to look in the direction of the open living room window out the bedroom door just as Michelangelo smacked his own forehead. "Zoinks! Here come the bad guys of the episode, right on schedule."

Quickly checking to be sure that the bag of shuriken and the butterfly knives were secure on his person, Leonardo darted to the bedroom door and locked it. "Let's go," he said, heading for the bedroom window. "I doubt they'll come in through the front door, but this window faces an emptier lot."

Donatello grabbed the box of mercuric fulminate and took the blueprints from Leonardo, folding them into his belt as he and Michelangelo followed after their leader. Leonardo opened the window and quickly jumped out onto the ledge, his two brothers in tow. Just as he was about to tell them to make a break for their hidden helicopter some five miles away, a cluster of Bishop's men appeared on the ground, shooting at them.

"Ack!" Michelangelo screamed, thrown slightly off-balance by the new weapon in hand. "Hey, how about _we_ try going through the front door for once?" No sooner had the words left his mouth than they could hear the bedroom door crash open inside the apartment. Being closest to the window, he and Donatello glanced inside as more men began shooting from within. "I'm thinking it might be too late for that, Mikey," Donatello wagered.

"Come on," Leonardo said, trying to appear as undaunted as possible. "The only way to go is down." As Leonardo leapt to the ground and unsheathed his swords, Michelangelo called, "Up's good, too. No one shooting at us from up!" It was at that moment that the wind picked up, causing Michelangelo and Donatello to look above them. The aircraft that they had heard was right on top of them. "Uh," Donatello murmured. "Again, you might want to reevaluate that statement."

Deciding that opening his mouth led to more complications, Michelangelo shut up and jumped down besides Leonardo, putting the new weapon away and withdrawing his nunchucks. "Okay," he said as Donatello joined them on the ground. "But nobody else says the t-word. Got that?"

He never got an answer. Another shot came right for the center of their group, as though purposely trying to get them to scatter. It worked. Michelangelo dove left, Donatello right, and Leonardo leapt straight into the air.

While in the air, Leonardo threw one of his katana at the shooter, causing the laser to backfire. The assailant threw it at the ground as sparks jumped out of his weapon, but he was not quick enough to run away as the gun exploded, sending him and the man closest to him flying through the air. The force of the small explosion sent Leonardo's sword sailing, and it fell into his palm as he landed on the ground, as a trained animal would return to its master.

Rather than falling to the ground, Donatello used his bo as a javelin, sending himself jumping to an attacker who was distracted by the nearby blast. The man managed to look up just as a large green foot connected to his jaw, sending him reeling backwards. Two other men tried to go for Donatello, but he jabbed one hard in the stomach, pivoted and ducked as the other let out a shot, and tripped him with his staff. The man's laser flew out of his hands, and Donatello quickly batted it away. It glowed a dull red before going off near Michelangelo's assailants.

Michelangelo had ducked and rolled to avoid a few shots, then popped up in a jump and used his lightning-fast nunchucks to disarm two of his opponents. Without weapons, they both tried to attack the turtle with their bare fists, but soon enough found that to be a dangerous mistake. Michelangelo grabbed the collars of one of the men and flipped him over his shoulder, causing him to collide with the other unarmed attacker. Before either man could recover, Michelangelo unleashed a dragon kick to the man he had thrown, hitting both of them and sending them flying. Just as two more men tried to get Michelangelo from behind, the gun that Donatello had disengaged went off, sending each of them flying over Michelangelo's head. Looking at them before turning around and realizing what happened, Michelangelo turned to Donatello and flashed him a thumbs-up sign. "Yo, thanks bro!"

"Don't go thanking me yet, Mikey!" Donatello cried out. A few civilians who had gone to their windows at the sound of the explosions headed for shelter as the enormous aircraft began to descend. The three turtles regrouped and looked to the air as the few remaining men also began to back away.

As a door to the strange craft was jerked open, Leonardo gritted his teeth. _There is _no_ way I'll let another one of my brothers be taken_, he thought resolutely. "Whatever happens, guys," he told the others aloud, "don't let your guard down."

"Wait a second," Donatello suddenly said, shielding his eyes from the wind and looking upwards. "I recognize that thing." Moments after he said those words, a rope ladder was thrown out, the tail end of it landing directly in front of Leonardo. "It's Zanramon's space cruiser," Donatello continued. "I haven't seen it since I hid it after we swiped it from the Triceratons. But how-?"

Donatello didn't need to wonder about it for long. Clinging to the inside of the space cruiser, Casey Jones stuck his head out to yell at them. Though his voice was thrown away by the wind, the turtles gathered that he must have been telling them to hurry up. "Dudes, it's Casey!" Michelangelo called out, always noting the obvious.

Seeing that the craft was an ally of the turtles, Bishop's remaining four men began to shoot at it. "Mikey, take them out!" Leonardo called. Michelangelo was right on it as Leonardo grabbed the rope ladder and pulled it taut. "Don, get up there, quick. Let Casey know about the plan so that we can get going as soon as Mikey and I are clear."

Donatello nodded and jumped on the ladder, scrambling to the top and attempting to ignore the laser blasts and harsh wind. As he got to the top, Casey grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. "Some vacation," Casey commented, with a hint of sarcasm. "I leave you guys alone for a few hours, and you already blowin' stuff up in some chick's backyard and got half 'a LA gawking at you. What would Splinter say?"

Grateful to be safe, Donatello earnestly breathed, "Nice to see you too, Casey." Heading for the cockpit, Donatello sat besides April, who was uncertainly manning the controls. "Don!" April exclaimed. If she hadn't been otherwise occupied with the piloting, she would have hugged him. "Are you okay?" Donatello nodded. "Yeah, we're fine. April, what are you doing here?"

"You didn't call me back," April stated simply, "and Allison's phone call freaked me out more than I let on. Casey and I decided to take a red eye over here, but on the way to the airport, we passed by the dump and remembered that you had hidden this spaceship from the Triceraton invasion there a while back."

"_I_ remembered," Casey interjected, obviously proud of this detail. April rolled her eyes and continued. "We figured it'd get us here faster and cheaper, in case things hadn't gone wrong and we were just going to head back. I came here expecting to see Allison tearing you guys limb-from-limb… so what's with the lasers?"

Grateful that April had a better memory than he did, Donatello took a deep breath and told April and Casey a very abridged version of what had occurred. After his short explanation, April groaned. "Great. I was _not_ expecting to have to break into a military base and go on a complicated rescue mission."

"_I_ was," Casey remarked, mostly to annoy April. He went back to the door just in time to grab hold of Michelangelo's hand and pulled him to safety. "Whew!" Michelangelo gasped. "Do you guys have great timing or what?" Looking past him and down the ladder, Casey's eyes widened as he nearly yelled, "I'm thinkin' it's an 'or what!'"

Confused, Michelangelo whirled around and looked down. Somehow, Leonardo had lost his grip on the ladder and was currently haphazardly hanging in between rungs by his foot. "Leo!" Michelangelo screamed. Startled, Donatello jumped out of his seat to see what the matter was.

It's hard to maintain your calm when you're hanging a few stories off the ground, tethered to a moving space cruiser as semi-conscious gunmen tried to shoot you down. Leonardo did remarkably well. He managed to sit up so that his body was at a perpendicular angle, and reached out for the rung so that he could untangle himself. It was at that point that one of the shots actually made it.

The left side of the three rungs above him were immediately vaporized, forcing Leo to hang limply once more as he had less support than he did only a nanosecond ago. The uneven pull hurt his ankle, and he knew that he would have to work hard to suppress a limp. Grimacing, Leonardo could feel the sweat pouring from his forehead as he saw that Bishop's forces were slowly starting to regain their wits.

Just when he thought he might be forced to cut himself loose before simply falling, Leonardo saw something dangle just above him. Looking down—which was, of course, upwards—he saw that Donatello's bo was being offered to him. Grabbing hold of it, he could see that Michelangelo had Donatello around the ankles as Donatello held out his weapon to Leonardo. Grateful that at least _some_ messages about teamwork seemed to have sunk in, Leonardo was pulled into the safety of the spacecraft.

Panting on the floor as Donatello undid the mess of ropes around his ankle, Leonardo tried to swallow back the sense of panic he had felt. Between the stress from the crime wave in New York and losing Raphael and seeing Michelangelo nearly fried by a taser, the aerospace stunts didn't exactly help the normally-controlled turtle. "Thanks guys," he managed to let out in a thin whisper.

"Leo, are you okay?" Donatello asked. "Your ankle… it looks like a _bad_ case of rope burn. Did you-?" Leonardo immediately shook his head and tried to stand. "No. I'm fine." He tried not to wince as he stood, but couldn't help it. Michelangelo quickly came besides him and supported his brother. "Don't try to pull that stuff," he told Leonardo. "_Raph's_ the pigheaded macho man, and he's been replaced by Casey. You just sit down."

"Yeah," Casey agreed after shutting the door, genuinely concerned for Leonardo. "Rest up for a bit. No point being a pigheaded-" He blinked, then glared at Michelangelo. "Hey!"

"As much as I would like to see how this conversation pans out," April called, "I can't exactly read the fuel gauge on this thing. Where are we going, and how do we get there?" After getting Leonardo to sit in a chair, Donatello hopped back into the seat besides April. Determined not to waste the gift of having a space cruiser on their side now, Donatello took control of the steering.

"We're headed for Bishop," he said lowly.


	10. Chapter 10

Breathing hard, Raphael ducked into a room and closed the door behind him.

He wasn't feeling well. After being shot, he had turned and sped off with all of the speed he had been given, catapulting past Bishop's men and even Bishop himself. He was in a bad spot, and he wasn't about to let himself be captured so that the rest of the "cure" could be administered. Especially now that Allison depended on him.

He lowered himself down to the ground, laying the still-unconscious girl across his lap. A glimpse at her made him choke up. Her fur gone, he could now see the face that he had remembered from so many months ago. She was back in her human form, which also meant that she was naked. Even with his predicament, Raphael could still feel a mild blush at his cheeks.

Setting Allison aside, he stumbled to his feet and looked about. From the looks of the well-lit room, he had staggered into some sort of large storeroom. There were lockers lining one end of the white wall, and a series of crates were at the other end.

Raphael walked over to the boxes. They were loaded with some kind of artillery. He would normally have looked through them and go about utilizing his findings, but he knew that he was in no position to follow his normal hotheaded tactics. Instead, he dragged the heavy crate over to the door, and used it to help barricade himself and Allison within. He went back and slowly picked up another box, hoping to make it impossible for someone to burst in. And if they tried to blast in with their lasers, hopefully they'd set off an explosion that would allow him to slip past them.

Though exhausted after the third box, he stooped down to pick Allison up and take her to the other side of the room. If those punks _did_ try to blast their way in, he didn't want Allison to be caught in the crossfire. Being more aware of her nakedness now that she was in his arms again, Raphael moved to the lockers and tested them. The first two were locked. On the third, he decided to pull it with all of his might. The door came off in his hand, and he almost fell backwards.

Placing Allison back on the floor, he looked inside the locker. There was a spare set of black clothes inside, which was better than he had hoped, despite the fact that they looked big enough to be loose on the Shredder. Kneeling down besides Allison, he gently began to dress her. Even in his wavering state, he didn't want Allison to feel vulnerable upon her awakening.

Looking at her now as he dressed her, Raphael was tentatively relieved. She was back. Her thick dark brown hair had grown since he had last seen her, and it looked as though she had put on some weight. It looked good on her, though. As he adjusted her arms within the far-too-large sleeves, he marveled over Allison's muscular structure. She had clearly been working out. _Heh_, he thought. _She could probably give Bishop 'n his goons a run for their money._

The thought made him somewhat somber. He had succeeded in turning her back into a human, but not in saving her. They were trapped deep within Bishop's base, practically waiting for the agent and his men to come and pick them up. And Raphael had to go and get himself shot.

He tried to tell himself that only half of the serum had managed to get into his system, and so he shouldn't worry. But the false optimism made him cringe, especially when he could already feel the medication working on him. After he finished adjusting a pair of pants on Allison, he leaned back against the lockers and looked down at her. His stillness only seemed to amplify whatever was going on inside of him.

It seemed to him like he was being compressed, shrinking. Could it be that he was already growing smaller? Was he… was he really on his way to becoming just another turtle? _Maybe Allison can take me under her arm and stick me in her tank with her other turtle._ A sudden thought struck Raphael. Would he even remember Allison? Would he know anything about his brothers, about Splinter, about Casey and April, about his _life_?

The thought terrified him. He tried to think of life before his mutation. Nothing came to him but hazy, dim memories. He didn't know if that was because he was so young or because animals just… don't remember. They don't think. They don't rationalize. What if Bishop was right, and he turned into just another animal?

A deep depression befell Raphael. He glanced at Allison, who now seemed to be only sleeping. He felt tempted to try and wake her up. He needed someone to talk to, needed someone to tell him to quit being irrational, someone with Leonardo's level-headedness that could draw him out of his tempestuous emotions. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to wake her up. After everything she had been through, what would be the point in waking her up while her body was trying to reenergize, just so she could share in his anxiety?

Raphael knew what the point was. And as immature as it made him feel, he couldn't deny it. He would get a hug. He would be held. He knew that Allison was a nurturing person, knew it from the moment she had brought him his medical supplies and food when he had been shot when they first met. And as much as he begrudged it, he realized that he needed that. The focus and dedication along with the occasional needling that Leonardo and Splinter had always provided him with had been wrapped up in this girl… this one girl that he met on a dark night and could hardly stop thinking about since.

Raphael felt disgusted with himself. He wasn't averse to romance or love, so long as it didn't bother him in his little sphere in the world. And now he's realizing that he hadn't sacrificed all that he did for Allison because she was a friend, but because… no. No, he was not going to bring himself to think it.

A sudden wave of pain came to Raphael's hands. He grunted, clenching his fists. In a few minutes, he may not have fists anymore. More pain came, this time at his back. _This is it_, he realized as he fell upon his hands. _I can't… this is… ugh._ He moaned loudly, mindless of the possibility of broadcasting his location.

He wrapped an arm around his stomach, as though he were about to retch. His mind clouding, Raphael looked back up to Allison. Even then, even in that pain, he couldn't bring himself back to that thought that almost crossed his mind. Why should he? There was no possibility of anything ever coming from thoughts like that.

She shifted in her sleep, turning over to her stomach, an arm cradling her head. In that one movement, so simple and spontaneous,… Raphael realized that she was beautiful. Her hair fell over her sleeping face, and even the ridiculously large clothes he had found for her couldn't hide her feminine form. And Raphael began to do something that he hadn't done in a very long time.

He cried. He cried for what was, and what could have been, and what would be. He cried because he was never more certain of never seeing his family again, of never wrestling with Casey, of never going to April's apartment to watch television. He cried because Allison was the only girl he had ever really cared about as anything other than a friend, and it wasn't fair, it wasn't _fair_.

If they hadn't met, she would probably still be living in New York, living her simple life, hiding the secret of her lonely past and painful present from everyone she knew. But no, they met, and they connected, and in only a few days, she told him everything she had never been able to tell another living soul. In only a few days, she had managed to actually "get" him, to understand him so well that she wrote a screenplay inspired by him. He was good for her. For once, he was actually good for someone.

Raphael still remembered the lines that the character based on him said to a human girl in _The Sewer Dwellers_: "Just find out who you are, and you'll see who I am." And Allison found out who she was in those few days with Raphael, enabling her to also see who he was.

Had she thought about him? Raphael could still remember the days when he kept expecting April to come to the lair with a letter or for Donatello to announce that she had sent an e-mail. The long stretches of silence that passed by so steadily that he had almost forgotten that he had been waiting for something. Almost. He knew he was waiting, and he had resented it so much that he grew sick of it, never daring to mention Allison in front of Michelangelo lest he be ridiculed. Now he wondered if she ever expected some form of communication herself, if she had ever wondered how he was doing. A sense of unfamiliar shame flooded through Raphael.

What was happening to him? His emotions usually led him towards animated, angry outbursts. Now… now everything simply became another reason for melancholy. Every teardrop was its own tragedy. Why? Was it a side effect of the medication? Was this what going insane felt like?

Raphael hardly noticed that in his angst-ridden daze, he had been slowly crawling towards Allison. With extraordinary effort, he pushed himself up so that he could peer over her shoulder and look down at her face. The sight of her mouth slightly open made him want to cry again, but he suddenly felt too dry. _I don't get it_, he thought hazily. _What's with the waterworks? Make it stop. Please… just… make it stop._

His strength gone, Raphael's arms failed beneath him. He lay on his side behind Allison, one arm beneath his head. Exhausted and dizzy, Raphael gingerly rested his forehead on Allison's back. Somehow, this seemed to get him somewhat grounded.

He felt as though he should have been aghast by the fact that he wanted to sleep. But why? If he should not wake up as a sentient being, he had at least left Allison in a room loaded with weaponry for defense. And who knows; maybe his brothers were on their trail and will be able to save her. Maybe she really will keep him with her, and he'll be able to stay with her, in a nice little tank in her bedroom.

His resignation nauseated him, but that could just have easily been the work of the serum. There was nothing left for him to do. Any activity would probably just speed up the transformation, and he didn't have the strength for any activity to begin with. He only hoped that he had truly done all he could to protect Allison.

As though in a final gesture to guard her, Raphael draped an arm around Allison as he drifted out of consciousness.

-----------------------------------

Allison awoke with a sense of stiffness.

Her arm was sore, as it had been folded under her head when she slept. When she tried to move her other arm to wipe the sleep out of her eyes, she realized that she was somewhat pinned down. Suddenly remembering everything that had happened between Bishop and Raphael and their escape, Allison became aware of a person lying besides her, an arm over her.

She smiled, a single thankful tear falling down her cheek. From the corner of her eye, she could see her hand, not a paw but a _hand_, with her short nails and normal olive complexion. She sighed, knowing that, though she had been in a bad spot, Raphael had come through. He managed to pull her away from the danger. He had saved her.

Allison shifted slightly, trying to get her free arm out from under her. Once it was released, she put a hand on what she gathered to be Raphael's arm. How many times had this happened? How many times had she been knocked out and woken up to find him next to her? How many times-

Allison stopped suddenly. Her hand had drifted down to the one that lay limply at her side. Her initial grogginess gone now, she felt the hand… and it was actually a hand. Large, but not inhumanly so, and with five fingers. This wasn't a turtle.

Shocked, Allison pushed the arm away from her and rolled away. She was wearing unfamiliar baggy clothes and had to hold them against her lest they fall away. If she had been lying next to Bishop….

But no. She didn't know who this person that was slowly grunting his way into wakefulness was. He was a short but muscular man with a bald head and a wide face. Allison was disgusted when she realized he was nude except for a few accessories, as though he hadn't completely undressed. He had something over his eyes, which he adjusted as he slowly made it up to his elbows. Allison realized that it was a bandanna.

Confused, Allison jumped to her feet and assumed a defensive position, which was difficult to do since the pants that she was wearing kept trying to fall down. When the stranger opened his impossibly large brown eyes, she realized that he was young, possibly high school-aged.

Having to squint through the eye mask, the boy decided to take it off completely as he looked up at the scared girl. "Allison?" Allison relaxed her defensive mannerism somewhat, but something in the back of her mind told her that this wasn't right. The stranger made it up to his knees, something of a relieved smile on his face. "Kid, you're okay! Ya almost had me worried."

Noting her even more shocked expression, the boy frowned inquiringly. Not getting an answer from her, he looked down and then stopped, catching sight of his own hand. He lifted his hand closer to his face. As though he had never seen it before, he moved the fingers in front of his face, then looked at his other hand and did the same. Lightly touching his face, he looked down at himself and looked almost aghast as he caught an eyeful of his own nude body. "What the shell?"

Allison backed up against a wall, sliding herself down to the floor. It was impossible. This couldn't be happening. The boy looked up at her, as though beseeching her to tell him so. But Allison couldn't bring herself to speak.

Though he had the body of a human, he had the voice of Raphael.


	11. Chapter 11

"Raphael?"

Scratching the back of his head, the human answered, "Yeah, that's what I _thought_." Allison couldn't believe it. What had happened? Why was he a human? Where were they? Were they out of danger? She couldn't bring herself to ask any of these questions as her eyes remained fixed on the naked teenager in front of her.

After a moment or two, Raphael finally made his way to his feet. To avoid gaping at anything inappropriate, Allison looked down at the five toes on each foot. She wondered how odd it must feel for Raphael to stand on those two feet… and she realized that he probably didn't have any answers about their situation himself.

Raphael took unsteady steps back to the locker door he had ripped off and thrown on the ground. Horribly aware of the fact that he was unpleasantly exposed in this new human form in a way turtles didn't have to worry about, he stooped down. Looking into the mirror that was attached to the inside of the door, he looked into his new face.

He was… handsome. Not a super model, no, but it was most indefinitely an improvement to his old face. He wasn't sure how he felt about the human male body, but his facial structures suited him fine. "Hey," he said, trying to laugh it off, "maybe now I can get a job in action movies. I got the trainin' for it."

He looked up at Allison and saw that she was not amused. Indeed, she looked as though she might have gone into shock. "Hey," he repeated, wanting to get up but choosing to stay his distance until he could get some clothes on. "You okay?"

"Raphael," she finally breathed out. "What happened to you? How did you…?" Raphael shrugged, also aware that her eyes were going over his entire body. He couldn't help but wonder if she shared his sentiments about his new appearance. "When I was gettin' you away from Bishop, he shot me with that stupid 'cure.' It only emptied halfway, though, so maybe…."

Realizing what he was saying, Allison uttered, "Instead of bringing you closer to the turtle side of you, it brought you closer to the human aspects." As Raphael nodded, Allison looked away, flabbergasted, "Great, it's sci-fi genetics. But of course."

"This might just be a blessing in disguise," Raphael said, standing up and turning back to the row of lockers. "Bishop probably don't know what you look like, and he definitely won't recognize me. We can at least blend in long enough to get outta here."

He tugged at one of the lockers, attempting to pull it out as easily as he had done to the first one. It wouldn't even budge. He tried again, using both hands. As he attempted again and again to open it, he suddenly had a distressing thought: his strength was gone. Though he was still muscular and probably far stronger than the average man, this body's flesh was weaker and its capacity far smaller than he was used to. And he was beginning to grow _very _angry at this stupid locker.

"Here," Allison said from behind him. Raphael turned around, surprised to see that Allison was holding out a pair of pants for him. He was about to ask her where she had gotten then, but looked down and saw that they were her own. Wholly uncomfortable, he pushed them back towards her. "No way. I'll grab my own."

"Raphael," Allison reasoned, "they're way too big for me, anyway. This shirt practically hangs to my knees, so I don't think there'll be much of an issue in the modesty department. You need these pants just as much as I need the shirt." Completely unused to the idea of _needing_ to wear clothes, Raphael took them begrudgingly. Allison turned around and gave him her back as he hurried to put them on.

"Where are we?" Allison asked as Raphael got dressed. Stepping into her line of sight once more, Raphael replied, "We're somewhere in Bishop's base. I think I went down some stairs, so we're probably at the lowest level. I think we were underground to begin with, so this means lots of flights up."

Allison turned to face Raphael. Trying not to get caught up in the strange face speaking with a familiar voice, she queried, "Do you really think we can make it up there? I haven't seen any women working for Bishop yet, so I don't know if I can fit in. And if you walk around without a shirt, you're liable to stand out as though your skin were still green."

Raphael let out a smirk that looked even more mischievous than it did on his normal face. "I might be human, but I'm still a ninja, kid. No one's gotta see me unless I want 'em to."

Allison stared at him sternly. She obviously didn't think this was a good plan, but she also didn't know what else to do. "Raphael," she started again quietly. "What if you…." She looked away, clearly troubled. Serious now, Raphael gently took hold of her arm and asked, "What if I what?"

She looked back up at him, trying her best not to look as worried as she was. Finally, she went on. "What if… what if this is just a preliminary mutation or something? Like, your genes got confused because only a little bit of the cure went through, so they shifted into this for a while before going on and turning you into a regular turtle? Or what if there are some bad side effects? I just saw you try to open that door; your strength isn't what it used to be. If we waste too much time sneaking around and trying to stick to the shadows, it might be too late for you. Maybe we should… maybe I should just give you this shirt so that you can go straight through to the surface and contact your brothers. Then Leonardo and Mike can come back for me while Donatello runs some tests to make sure you're okay."

Raphael was already shaking his head as soon as her proposition became clear. "No," he stated when she was finished, dropping her arm. "No, no, and no. I ain't leavin' ya alone where Bishop can find ya and do whatever it was that he was gonna do to ya. You're comin' with me, even if I gotta carry you the whole way."

"Raphael, you _can't_ carry me the whole way!" Allison was beginning to get exasperated. Clearly, she really _was_ afraid that Raphael's current state was only temporary, and wanted him in the clear before something happened. "You're not strong enough! And now that I'm normal again, I'm not as fast or agile as I had been before. I'll only slow you down. The only logical thing is to-"

"Logic? Where do you get off talkin' about logic?" Raphael didn't mean to raise his voice, but his temper was flaring. "You just said so yourself, this is sci-fi stuff. Logic ain't got no place in this, kid. All I know is that we need to get outta here, and I'm not about to let ya outta my sight again! So even if I gotta strap ya down to my back, I ain't leavin' here without ya, you get me?"

Allison was about to counter in the way she usually did when she used to bicker with Raphael, but was startled by a sound at the door. Raphael whirled around as well. The boxes that acted as their barricade trembled as something outside tried to get in. Apparently, their voices helped Bishop's men pinpoint their position.

Raphael quickly darted to the pile of heavy crates at the door and jumped onto the first one so that he could reach into the top one. The trembling stopped, but Raphael had a feeling that that wasn't a good thing. They were most likely getting ready to fire. In that case, he had better get away from the door quickly, as he no longer had a shell to protect himself.

He took two guns in each hand and leapt down. Running to Allison, he pointed to the end of the row of lockers. "Go, go!" Trying not to panic, Allison obeyed. She ran as hard as she could, knowing that Raphael's reaction could only mean one thing. Feeling his hand on her back as he pushed her on, Allison flinched as she waited for the sound of the blast.

At the end of the row, Raphael thought he could hear the sound of blasters being charged up. He took hold of Allison and pushed her against the corner between the last locker and the wall. Out of habit, he covered her with his body, even though he was now just as susceptible to harm as she was. This thought only just managed to enter his mind when he heard the deafening sound of three crates of laser guns being blasted.

They were mostly safe from the flying debris, but Raphael did feel some bits of wood bite into his torso. He tried not to wince in front of Allison, but he couldn't help it; human flesh was so much more sensitive than that of reptiles.

When the airborne rubble became inconsequential, Raphael managed a glance behind him. He could hardly see where the doorway had been, as the dense smoke acted as a wall. He knew he had a chance.

"Here," he said, giving Allison two of the guns in his hands. Each of the guns had straps, and he threw one over his right shoulder, holding the other one in his left hand. Allison followed suit. Taking her free hand, Raphael told her, "C'mon, we haven't got much time."

Without another word, they ran into the smoke, Allison being mostly led by Raphael as she hoped that he had managed to maintain most of his night vision. It seemed that that had not been affected by his transformation as he shot a couple of blasts into what she saw to be empty smoke. She thought she heard men screaming and bodies falling, but her ears were still ringing from the explosion and she was too preoccupied by the debris tearing into the soles of her feet.

She could feel herself bumping into the doorframe and then into various people as she and Raphael sped down a corridor. The smoke was less thick out here, so she could see several men dressed in black being shot down by Raphael, who seemed determined to get to a set of double doors at the end of the hall. When the doors slid open, Allison realized that it was an elevator. Half a dozen more men marched out, all quickly taken out by Raphael. "Sorry guys," he grunted as he stepped over them and pulled Allison into the elevator. "This car's full."

He shot blindly out into the corridor, mostly to act as a deterrent so that the elevator doors could close. Once they were shut inside, Raphael looked around. It looked like there was an emergency escape shaft sealed off by the light fixture. He decided there was only one way to find out. Pushing Allison to one side of the wall, he shot up at the ceiling.

As the light fixture came crashing down, Allison covered her ears and yelled. "What did you do _that_ for!" Without giving her an answer, Raphael managed to leap up to the passage, glad that his lack of a shell at least made him lighter on his feet. With minimal effort, he pulled himself out of the elevator car and turned to give Allison an assist. She seemed puzzled, but soon enough caught on that the elevator would be stopped by Bishop or his men and so they needed to get out before it stalled. Taking his hand, Allison allowed Raphael to pull her out.

He held onto her tightly in the dark, narrow shaft. The elevator was still going up, but he could bet that that would either change or he wouldn't want to face whatever would be waiting for it. Breathing hard, Raphael walked Allison to the other end of the shaft, where the doors would open. He tensed when he realized she put an arm around him and found the splinters of debris in his flesh. Before she could say anything, Raphael jumped off the ascending car and onto the ledge of another floor, pushing Allison as close to the closed doors as possible.

Allison's heart jumped to her throat as she felt herself being pulled away from the rapidly rising elevator. She could feel her bare ankle hanging above an untold number of stories, while the only thing keeping her from falling backwards was a creature who was now only human. As the car zipped passed her and blew her hair around her face, Allison wondered how she ended up doing more stunts in real life than she did whilst filming her movie.

The two of them pressed against the closed double doors, panting. Allison was panting because she couldn't believe she had just done that. Raphael, on the other hand… simply had not gotten used to the lack of endurance his new body had. _I dunno if I can live like this for the rest 'a my life_, he thought. The idea brought a shudder to him, and he decided it best to move on, rather than think about the lasting consequences of that night.

Raphael pressed his ear against the doors, listening intently in the hopes of discovering whether they should go up the shaft manually or attempt to explore one of the landings. Not hearing anything, Raphael decided to go for it.

Looking down at the gun in his hand, he carefully let go of Allison and fiddled with the settings. He hoped that these things worked similarly to the weapons he had worked with in the past. Setting it on its lowest frequency, he aimed it at the topmost corner of the left hand door, telling Allison, "Watch your head and hope this works."

Allison cringed, expecting to go blind from a bright flash going off in such a tight space. Instead, she was relieved to see that she hardly noticed when he shot at all. He managed to disengage the left door, and together, they succeeded in slowly prying it away without too many worries about their balance.

Once the door was out of the way, Raphael held onto Allison as she slid into the opening and into a new room. He followed quickly behind her, not daring to leave her alone for even a few seconds. What he saw in the room was enough to make him shiver.

"Great," he muttered. "Another lab. Just what the mad scientist ordered."

Allison stepped inside, looking about the dark laboratory. Various pieces of equipment jutted out at odd angles, giving her a sense of awkwardness. She felt sick to realize that—even with the apparently modern touches—is still seemed reminiscent of the lab of Dr. Frankenstein. Wrapping her arms around herself as she took wary yet curious steps into the room, Allison gasped, "Does the government actually fund that psycho for all of this stuff?"

With her back turned to him, Raphael took this opportunity to pick the splinters out of his side, wiping the blood away from his relatively-pale skin as best as he could. "You'd be surprise what idiots with fancy titles like 'President' can get away with doing," he remarked bitterly. "Especially when they think it's for the good 'a their country. Personally, I'd work on fixin' up our sewer systems, but I guess everybody's got their bias."

Allison didn't answer right away. Wondering if she had wandered off, Raphael glanced up. She had turned to him, looking worriedly down at his injuries. "Jeez," he breathed, already anticipating her thoughts. "Just a couple 'a scratches, so don't start." Straightening up, he went to move past her. "C'mon. Let's see if there's anything useful around."

He stopped when he felt her grab his wrist. "Raphael," she said quietly but firmly. "You're hurt." Before he could object, she strapped the gun she was holding onto her shoulder and gently touched his wounds. He involuntarily shivered. It was partly because of the flicker of pain that came from the gashes, but it was also… something else. Human flesh _was_ so much more sensitive than that of reptiles. Though her touch wasn't necessarily more pleasant now, it was certainly… different.

Allison squinted down at the injuries Raphael had already managed to sustain. She didn't dare put too much pressure on them, as she knew from experience that Raphael would never bother to tell her that she was hurting him. She could feel the sticky blood dripping down and gently dabbed at it with the long sleeve of her shirt. She thought about looking for a lamp so that she could get a good look at what she was dealing with, but didn't want to risk signaling anyone to their location.

This was an odd situation for Allison. Just the day before, she had been worried that she might have been coming down with something. And now she had managed to go in and out of a mutation and was standing half-naked with the human form of someone she had only previously known as a turtle. And he was hurt. And there were people chasing after them. And they didn't know where they were. And they were alone. She felt vulnerable, and she hated it.

Clearing her throat, Allison said, "Guess you're not as tough-skinned as you normally are, huh?" She looked up at him at that, and stopped. Confused, she noted that he was looking at her with a strange expression on his face. She was about to ask him what was wrong when he lowly responded, "Yeah. Not as tough."

Raphael could see her swallow uncertainly. He wondered if his face was more expressive now than it had always been, and for a moment he feared what it was that she saw in it. He didn't know if he was concerned that she got the wrong impression… or if she had gotten the _right_ one.

Glancing down, Raphael was surprised to see that he had put a hand on her waist, almost as though he meant to embrace her. A peculiar sense of disconnectedness suddenly came over him as he realized that it seemed as though she were expecting something from him. Was she? Or was it simply his imagination?

Deciding to find out for sure, Raphael slowly leaned into her. He could see her tense up a bit, but she didn't pull back. Then it wasn't his imagination. This was really happening. He was really about to ki-

A sudden creaking sound came from the darkness, startling Allison and causing her to break away. Blinking in surprise, Raphael straightened up and breathed deeply, trying to push out whatever thoughts had overcome his mind. He didn't understand why he couldn't sense it before, but he could sense it now. They weren't alone.

Wiping her palms against her sides, Allison looked about nervously. She was also flustered, not knowing what had come over her. Thankfully, she had enough sense to not worry about that now and simply get one of her guns ready as she surveyed her surroundings.

Whatever had made the sound clearly did not mean to make another one. Silence infected the lab, adding to the already-awkward air between Allison and Raphael. Biting her lip, Allison cautiously took a few steps forwards. She could tell from the corner of her eye that Raphael was shadowing her every move.

Both of his lasers out, Raphael's sharp eyes scanned the entire room. The sound had come from somewhere to the left of them, if he pinpointed it correctly. A large rectangular outcropping poked up from that direction, looking rather similar to the tables that he and Allison had been strapped to not too long ago. That was when Raphael began to have a very, _very_ bad feeling about this.

Allison gasped and turned sharply, having thought she had seen something swiftly cross by her left. Raphael pivoted, catching a glimpse of something to his right. Their backs to one another, both of them wondered if there was more than one attacker or, even scarier, only one.

Allison suddenly felt Raphael's arm around her waist and realized she was falling downwards. There was shooting involved as Raphael called, "Watch your head!" Quick to obey, Allison threw her free arm up over her head as Raphael tackled her to the ground. He landed solidly on top of her, but quickly rolled off and continued shooting.

Allison warily peeked up to face their unseen opponent. It took her a moment to recognize him. He seemed taller and was no longer covered by his odd bandages. Nonetheless, Allison had to hold back a shocked scream when she realized who it was.

Standing a few yards away from them was the Rat King.


	12. Chapter 12

"No way," Allison remarked, making her way up to her knees.

The Rat King? There, in Bishop's lab? It was impossible. She had seen him die. Leonardo had killed him. She saw it. The Rat King had lunged for Leonardo and ended up impaling himself on the turtle's katana. So how? How could he have been resurrected? Surely Bishop couldn't have discovered how to bring humans back from the dead. Unless… the Rat King had never been human to begin with.

It all made sense. Bishop's interest in the Rat King. The similarity Allison sensed between the two. And Bishop's cryptic words to her: _"Well, that answers_ that_ question."_ The Rat King was some kind of project of Bishop's, and he had simply been retrieved and repaired. And judging by the sudden speed and ferocity of his attack, he was new and improved.

Raphael shot continuously at the tall being that bore a grotesque resemblance to Agent Bishop, but to no avail. Every blast was dodged, causing a shrill symphony of shattering glass and equipment. As Allison cringed, she wondered if this wasn't just some way for the Rat King to alert the others of their location.

Without warning, the Rat King suddenly threw himself at Raphael, seemingly impervious to the laser blasts. Ducking and rolling, Allison could smell charred flesh. So this creature was not an android, but something that really did resemble a human being. The only difference now, it seemed, was that he did not feel pain. It probably had to do with Bishop's "tweaking," so that time would not be wasted on injuries. Allison hoped to use this for her advantage.

Looking up, she saw that Raphael had been grabbed about the throat and was lifted up to his feet. With an unintelligible cry, she jumped up to her feet and aimed her gun at him. The Rat King turned his head and, upon catching sight of her, growled horribly and threw Raphael aside. Allison pulled the trigger and held her finger there, but the bright red flash from her weapon did nothing to stop him from going right for her.

By the time she thought to put the weapon aside and make a run for it, he had already grabbed her arms and lifted her up, slamming her back down on a nearby table. She cried out in pain as books, pens, and various small objects bit into her skin. Allison was only thankful that she didn't seem to have broken anything and didn't feel as though she had a concussion.

"Let _go _of me," she snarled, attempting to fight him off. She was far stronger than her appearance would make one believe, but her clumsy punches straight into his battered torso didn't even seem to faze him.

"_You_," the Rat King hissed. Allison stopped struggling and looked up into those eyes, the same eyes that had been responsible for so much in her life. The DNA that formed those eyes undoubtedly came from Agent Bishop. It was because of _him_ that all of this had started. She didn't know whether to thank him or rip his throat out.

As the Rat King continued to exert pressure on her, Allison grimaced. His eyes… they recognized her. They knew her. With a small sound of surprise, Allison realized that he remembered precisely who she was, and he was going to enjoy whatever he planned to do to her. However, judging by the way he had simply disregarded Raphael, she could bet that the former turtle was safe. So long as he didn't open his mouth….

"Yo! Bishop Junior!" Allison winced even as she heard Raphael's brash voice from behind the Rat King. Her assailant turned, only to be struck right in the face with a fire extinguisher. The small margin of freedom she got from the blow was enough to get her to slink out from under him. She heard a few more _clangs_ as Raphael hit the Rat King a number of times, presumably to give Allison the time she would need to make it to her feet.

Most of the way up, Allison felt Raphael put an arm around her waist and grab one of her hands. "Let's get you someplace safe," he said, leading her quickly away. Allison allowed herself to be led, but wouldn't resign herself to being kept away safely. "Raphael," she breathed, "I've got a hunch that I might know how to beat this guy once and for all."

"Well, here's a plan," Raphael told her. "Talk faster so we can work on it _before_ he catches up to us." Knowing that he was right, Allison ran as fast as she could, which she was frustrated to realize was not very fast at all. Not knowing how loud it would be advisable to speak, Allison whispered, "It doesn't look like he's wired to feel pain. If that's true, and he's not at all robotic, then he won't be able to tell when there's something fatally wrong with his body. His flesh looks like it's only slightly tougher than ours, which means that it can be broken down. We need something corrosive, something that will make him decompose beyond repair."

"Great," Raphael commented, hazarding a glance behind them. "If you can find a store 'a toxic waste in the next two seconds, let's go for it." Allison tried to peek over her shoulder, only to feel someone grab the back of her shirt and pull her backwards, almost yanking the shirt off her back.

She yelped as she crashed directly into the Rat King. Before she could even think of struggling, she felt her feet leave the ground. Was she being lifted or was he jumping? It was hard to tell in the gloom and the confusion.

Raphael almost fell when Allison was suddenly pulled away from him. He turned just in time to see the Rat King leap from table to shelf, making his way towards what looked like a fluorescent light fixture on the ceiling. Reluctant to take his eyes off Allison, Raphael quickly scanned the labs. He wasn't sure what he was looking for until he found it.

Sprinting, Raphael made his way to a cabinet that was not too dissimilar from the one that he and Donatello had attempted to get the compound for the cure from. Not realizing that this would hurt, he slammed his fist through the glass door, cutting his hand and muttering curses as shards of glass flew everywhere. His eyes skimming the contents of the cabinet, Raphael saw the one chemical that he recognized: sulfuric acid.

Allison was dropped on something that swayed back and forth. Clinging to the sides, she looked down and could see the entire lab. Realizing that she was on the ceiling, she turned over and looked up at the maniacal figure grinning down at her.

"So, we meet again," the Rat King murmured, his voice lower but not any saner than it was from the last time they had met. Backing away from him as much as she dared, given the unsteadiness of the fluorescent light casing, Allison sarcastically replied, "Yeah. Lucky me."

"It would be wise to sheathe your impudence," he growled heatedly. "You, that are about to die, you that were only meant to be _bait_." Annoyed, Allison asked, "Hey, can we just quit with the theatrics here?" Her foot darted up to kick him, hopefully by surprise. His reflexes were quicker than humanly possible. He grabbed her foot and twisted it in such a way that she had to roll on her side to prevent it from breaking, her body nearly dangling from the ceiling.

"Had it not been for _you_," the Rat King continued intensely as Allison whimpered in frustration, "I would have succeeded in destroying the turtle creatures one by one. With their teacher under my command, they would have been helpless to stop it. First the loud one who had been injured, then the leader, and then the intelligent one before finally dealing with the last of those set in my little mousetrap. But no. No. Instead, _you_ decided to play the martyr and protect the loud one, alerting the others. _You_ managed to bring the rat-teacher back to his senses before he could properly dispatch of their brazen human friend. _You_ became the thorn in my side that distracted me and allowed for their meticulous leader to do away with me. Well, the tables have turned, my dear _brat_."

"And they gonna keep turnin', jerk."

The Rat King looked up as Raphael leapt from the neighboring light fixture onto theirs. Allison gasped, grabbing hold of the chains that creaked and threatened to give way under the added weight. Raphael stood in front of her, between her and the Rat King. "_You_," the Rat King snarled again. "I recognize your voice."

"Listen to it good, freak," Raphael yelled. "It's the last thing you gonna hear." One hand over his nose, he raised his other hand that was holding a bottle of sulfuric acid. Before the Rat King could run at him, Raphael took a step back and doused him with the highly caustic substance.

Without waiting for the effects, Raphael turned and grabbed Allison, pulling her to her feet. No sooner after he grabbed her did one of the four chains holding up the light casing snapped. Raphael managed to jump just before losing his balance, and grabbed onto the fixture he had arrived from. "Go!" Raphael grunted.

Dizzy from the sudden stench of sulfur, Allison hoisted herself up onto the new aerial island, giving Raphael a hand before his grip faltered. As Raphael adjusted himself besides her, she looked to the Rat King. He was making sounds of rage, not pain. The acid had hit his eyes, and a foul-smelling smoke was coming from his face as he tried to regain his eyesight. Chances are, he had just been blinded.

Allison's assumption proved correct. Continuously swiping his hand out in front of him in an attempt to strike two people who were no longer there, the Rat King moved slowly forwards. Hoping that a good blast to the chest would at least get him to fall and break his body in an irreparable way, Allison raised the one gun she had managed to hold onto and shot at him.

It was at that exact moment that Raphael decided to throw a second vial of acid that he had procured at the Rat King. Though she knew what would happen, Allison couldn't take back the movement of her finger on the trigger. When the heat of the laser shattered through the small bottle, the contents went off.

Allison screamed and instinctively reached over to Raphael even as she felt herself thrown backwards and falling to the lab. Raphael managed to grab hold of her hand and also felt himself falling downwards. Hoping they wouldn't land on anything painful, Raphael happened to glance towards an opened doorway and see a horde of Bishop's men retreat back into the corridor as a result of the blast.

Raphael automatically grabbed at Allison and turned over so that he would land on his back with her on top of him. As he felt the hard floor against his straight back, he realized once again that he had always taken the presence of a shell for granted. His head banged against the floor, causing his teeth to chatter.

Allison hugged Raphael tightly as things seemed to collapse everywhere. Both of the light fixtures they had been on had fallen and crashed against various apparatuses, causing a hair-raising cacophony. Putting her hands over her ears to stop them from ringing as things slowly quieted down, Allison whined, "No more explosions. Please, let's try to keep anything else from exploding."

Raphael groaned and raised a hand to his head. "No complaints from me," he mumbled. Allison looked down at him and noticed just how banged up he had gotten. Sitting up, she took both of his hands and looked at them. One of them looked badly cut, the other seemed to have gotten some of the acid splashed on it. "Raph-" she began, but stopped when he pulled his hands away and sat up.

"Not now," he said lowly. "We got company." He looked back towards the door, grateful that they had landed by a desk, blocking themselves from Bishop's men. Allison also looked up. She could just see the harsh light from the doorway and ducked when people started filing in.

Silently, Raphael pulled himself out from under her and readied his remaining laser. Normally, he would be confident in his ability to just crouch down and hide in the shadows, but the biting pain at his back told him that he wouldn't be able to crouch properly for a while yet. As fragile as this new body was, he was surprised humans have lasted this long as a species.

Luckily, Raphael didn't have to worry about blowing his cover. A sudden infuriated scream came from where the explosion was dying down, and all of the new arrivals quickly ran towards this, blasting as they went. "Heh," Raphael whispered, realizing that they were going after their boss' pet project. "Idiots."

Beckoning for Allison to follow, he quickly crawled towards the door. One man was left a few paces within the room, looking young and scared. Raphael stood, motioning for Allison to stay down. The man looked at him, startled, but calmed down considerably when he saw the familiar weapon and part of the typical black uniform. "What's going on in there?"

"Same thing that's goin' on out here," Raphael responded. Hoping that this was the gun that was placed at its lowest setting, Raphael shot him. The young man hit the wall and fell down, stunned but mostly unhurt. Not wanting to have someone who would be able to tell Bishop about his human shape, Raphael hit him on the head with the butt of his gun, knocking him out. Without needing to be summoned, Allison quickly got up and took hold of Raphael's outstretched hand.

Together, they left the lab and resumed their search for an escape.


	13. Chapter 13

"Sir, there appears to be a problem."

Bishop remained motionless for a moment. His hands clasped behind his back, he turned slowly on his heels. It was never difficult for him to retain his composure, but this situation was trying his patience.

"Problem?" Facing Captain Austen, Bishop narrowed his eyes sternly. "No, Austen. A _problem_ would be discovering the elevator is out of order. When the elevator has participated in the disappearance of one and a half mutants, we've escalated just slightly above the realm of '_problem_.'"

"Er, see… about that…." Austen cleared his throat, trying his best not to show his discomfort. He had seen what happens to men who are visibly fidgety in front of Bishop. "We've actually… tracked down said mutants." Bishop's eyes lit up as he asked where. Austen tried his best to stall without appearing to stall. Finally, he said, "The last place we traced them to was the lab on B7… before it… exploded."

Bishop kept silent before raising a single eyebrow. "B7? Exploded?" Austen nodded hesitantly. Though his hands were out of sight, Bishop's fists were clenched tight. "I see. Has anything been… recovered?"

Austen knew both of the connotations of this statement. On one hand, his superior wanted to know if the missing mutants had been captured. On the other, he was also checking in on the status of his… project. "It seems that the Slayer has been severely and fundamentally damaged."

"What exactly do you mean by 'fundamentally?'"

Another moment of silence passed before Austen could finally bring himself to explain. "It seems that some corrosive compound had been used. Its flesh is all but rotted through, and it seems that it has lost its sense of sight. Aside from that, its mental soundness now seems to be nonexistent, as it ran past us screaming incoherently."

Bishop unclasped his hands from behind him, taking a step towards Austen. "Are you saying," Bishop growled with the smallest hint of disbelief, "that you've managed to lose both the mutants _and_ the newly-renovated Slayer?"

Austen seemed to choke on his words as Bishop continued to advance upon him. The only thing that kept this from turning into a vicious attack was the sudden flashing red light followed by a blaring alarm. As Austen looked around, momentarily confused, a guard ran into the room and called out, "Security breach, sir!"

Another snarl rumbling in his throat, Bishop pushed past Austen and left the room. His head throbbing, he walked into the surveillance room and asked what the situation was. A technician brought his attention to a radar screen. "A large aircraft is closing in fast! It's like nothing I've ever seen before."

Bishop squinted at the screen, noting the expanse of the blip. "_I_ have," he whispered lowly. "Triceratons." A more experienced personnel member incredulously asked, "Triceratons? But we haven't had dealings with them in ages!"

Before Bishop could even have the chance to answer, the Triceraton ship opened fire. They only had three floors above ground, and these were mostly inconsequential. Somehow, Bishop felt that their attackers knew this. He stared grimly at the screen as the infrastructure trembled and his men continued to wait for orders from him.

"I suggest we find out what our new guests want."

--------------------------------

"Donnie, are you nuts!"

Michelangelo dug his fingers into his brother's shoulder just as Donatello released twin missiles at their destination. "What if you just blew Raph and Allison to little bits?" Shrugging Michelangelo's hand off of him, Donatello shook his head. "Not likely. As we know from the past, Bishop knows better than to keep his real base of operations where anyone could see them. He's most likely underground, and we're going straight for the root."

Unconvinced, Casey remarked, "What ever happened to all your stealthy ninja training? We just pretty much jumped out right in front of 'em and told 'em we're here." It was April's turn to shake her head as she looked out into the rubble that they were approaching. "With a spaceship _this_ big, they've probably picked up on us anyway. Rather than trying to sneak in and giving them time to defend themselves, we're better off going full speed ahead."

Michelangelo and Casey blinked at one another as April released another shot. "How ya like that?" Casey asked. "And it's me 'n Raph that are supposed to be the hotheads of the group."

Leonardo said nothing. Though he was behind the others and slightly out of earshot, he could feel in the pit of his stomach that they were dipping in altitude, and quickly. Testing his injured ankle, he found that he could put all of his weight on it and successfully repress a wince. He wanted to grumble to himself about how useless this made him feel, but didn't want to be overheard. Looking up, he saw that he didn't need to worry about that.

Michelangelo was looking at him with concern. "Hey bro, you wait in the plane, okay? Be our car alarm-" He didn't even get the chance to finish before Leonardo forcefully said, "No!" Standing up shakily, Leonardo insisted, "Raph and Allison are in danger, and we need to pull them out. _All_ of us. Rope burn isn't exactly a cause for alarm."

"The problem with _you_ is," Casey brought up, "you think that _every_ boo-boo's a 'cause for alarm'… except for your own." Leonardo sighed and was about to begin to argue when April turned around and looked at him. "Casey's right, Leo. Sit this one out. If we get in a tight spot, you'll be our backup. I'd feel better knowing we've got one of our best on reserve rather than risk you getting hurt over something so simple."

Seeing April's point, Leonardo reluctantly nodded his head in agreement. Casey simply gawked at April. "'scuse me," he remarked, "but can ya say that again?" April asked what he was talking about, and Casey explained, "Those first two words ya started with. I think the first one was my name and the other one was 'right.'"

"Get ready for a crash landing, guys!" Donatello's voice called out. Michelangelo quickly went to hold onto Leonardo just before the space cruiser began trembling. Distracted, Casey lost his balance and ended up throwing his arms around April, nearly sprawling behind her. "Whoa!"

Donatello held the controls as steady as he could as he sent the space cruiser down towards the still-smoking hole in the ground. A glance told him that he and April were right. The blast seemed to have damaged a good deal of equipment, but the real base of operations was in the lower levels that they were swiftly approaching. He could see a few of Bishop's men scurrying about, either to get clear of them or to arm themselves. Silently, Donatello begged for Raphael and Allison to be all right.

As they touched ground, April shrugged Casey off of her and stood from her seat. "Come on," she said, tugging the still-dazed man behind her. "The exit hatch is facing a wall. If we slip out of there while they're still confused, we've got the element of surprise on our side."

"Y'mean," Michelangelo spoke up, "we didn't have the element of surprise when we said, 'Ding-dong, Torpedo Cosmetics calling?'" He was duly ignored as Donatello opened the hatch and killed the engine. Grabbing his bo, he pulled Michelangelo behind him. "Try acting like a ninja for once, huh?"

Leonardo watched them all go, frustrated with himself. Though he wanted to go and help his brothers, he knew that going out with a minor injury that might worsen was a bad idea. It was something that seemed more in character with Raphael, as a matter of fact. With a heavy sigh as Michelangelo waved to him before jumping out, Leonardo unsheathed his swords and sat back down, still prepared for anything.

Outside, standing in the small space between the cruiser and the wall, Donatello looked about. Casey was keeping watch on one side of them, April on the other. Looking up, Donatello saw what looked like an air duct. Under his breath, he murmured, "What I wouldn't give for Raphael's sais right now."

"No problem, bro."

Donatello looked to see Michelangelo twirling the chain of the ancient weapon Leonardo had given him from Allison's apartment. Ducking and throwing his hands over his head, Donatello feared the worst. As he gained the right momentum, Michelangelo fluidly tossed the sharpened end of the chain up towards the duct, catching it and managing to tear it free. Jumping away from the twisted metal, Donatello gaped at his brother, who was grinning at him broadly. "All in the wrist," Michelangelo remarked before leaping up into the pipeline.

Casey and April drew towards Donatello, looking up after Michelangelo. "Hey, where'd Mikey get the new toys?" Casey asked. Shaking his head, Donatello told him that it was better not to ask. Without another word, the three of them followed after the buoyant turtle.

From his post within the space cruiser, Leonardo warily kept an eye out for any movement through the window or open hatch. As time crept on, he stood and took a seat in the cockpit, just in case a speedy escape was necessary. His mind raced with all of the possible things that Bishop could have been planning and he decided that, if it took more than an hour for the others to return, he would take off and simply blast his way to them. Bishop wouldn't tear his family apart anymore. Not if he had anything to say about it.

Apparently, the few people that had been on this level had escaped and didn't plan on facing down an unidentified spaceship. Most of them were probably back with Bishop. Leonardo's sharp eyes went over the vicinity, thankful for its apparent desertion. It only made him all the more tense when he saw a figure emerge from a door a few yards ahead of him.

The door cracked open and a man slipped in. It looked as though he may have been in the room when the blast first sounded, as he looked disheveled and his clothing was hanging on him by threads. He looked about the room and, catching sight of the space cruiser, seemed to tense up. Leonardo sunk down in his chair, thankful that the darkness prevented him from being seen.

It wasn't until the man sidestepped into the room that Leonardo saw that he had a tight grip on someone's wrist. Leonardo slowly leaned forward as the person pulled someone else into the room. The turtle felt a lump in his throat when he recognized the frightened girl as Allison.

Careful to stick to the shadows, Leonardo slid out of his seat, never taking his eyes off of the pair as he made his way towards the open hatch. From what he could gather, this was one of Bishop's goons who went to grab Allison, hoping to use her as a shield against whoever might be inside the spacecraft. The thought made Leonardo's blood boil as he lightly stepped out of the space cruiser and went around towards the back of it.

Crouched down and being able to see the feet of the approaching pair from underneath the spaceship, Leonardo held his breath and waited for them to get closer. Allison's bare legs were shaking, and she was obviously hesitant to go near the unknown craft that caused such a powerful explosion. The man, however, was a bit more confident. Leonardo wondered if he didn't recognize it as a Triceraton craft and somehow suspected that the turtles were about.

Standing, Leonardo peered towards the side just as the man pulled Allison towards the hatch. He looked from the opening to the warped covering on the floor that Michelangelo had worked on, then up to the air duct. He dropped Allison's hand and stepped towards it, seeming almost to contemplate jumping up there himself. He wasn't given the chance.

Catching only a small whisper of sound, the man whirled around just as his shoulder was grabbed and he was slammed against the wall by Leonardo. He grunted loudly in pain, but was immediately shut up by a large green fist jabbing him in the stomach. Leonardo let him go as he doubled over and fell to the ground.

Having registered the fact that Allison had cried out, Leonardo turned to her, aiming to comfort her and tell her that he was going to get her out of here. He was surprised, then, when he saw that she had fallen to the ground besides the coughing man, an arm protectively around him as she asked if he was all right.

Blinking, Leonardo was numb for a moment. Slowly crouching down besides the two of them, he thought that this may be a younger recruit of Bishop's who decided to turn against him, and had helped Allison escape. After a moment, he finally asked, "Did I miss something?"

Allison looked up at him, seeming to repress concerned tears. "Leonardo," she whispered, trying hard not to cry. She wiped at her eyes with one hand, the other arm still over the curled-up man. "I… you…." At a loss for words, she finally sighed. "You don't know how happy I am to see you."

"It's good to see you too, Allison," Leonardo replied, still feeling uncomfortable with this stranger in between the two of them. "And you're back to normal, too. This is great. The guys are here, along with April and Casey." He took out his shell cell, ready to make a call. "I'll let them know that you're here, and once they find Raph, we'll haul shell out of here."

At this, she looked down. "Leo… that's not gonna be necessary." A sharp stab of fear went through Leonardo as his thoughts turned cold. Unable to form a response, he waited until Allison was ready to speak. Looking back up at him, she finished, "Raphael's right here."

Dropping his shell cell, it was all Leonardo could do to merely gape at her for a moment before lowering his eyes to the man who slowly seemed to be getting over the pain. It was plain to see at a single glance that, even if they found the makings of a fantastic disguise, the crumpled heap in front of him was definitely not a turtle. He couldn't deny, however, that the man's bitter smirk seemed oddly reminiscent of his brother's. It was the distinctive, gruff voice that floored him most. "Thanks a lot, bro," was the sarcastic remark.

"R-Raph?" The human moved to get up, and Leonardo offered him a hand. Accepting it, Raphael slowly made it to his feet, still coughing slightly from the stinging pain of the attack. "Yeah," he responded. "And if I wasn't so beat up right now, you'd be dead meat."

Standing, Leonardo stuttered for a moment, trying to form the words. Still looking up worriedly from the floor at Raphael's wounds, Allison explained, "Bishop tried to reverse Raphael's mutation and turn him back into a turtle. Instead… well… _this_ happened." Raphael noticed that Allison's voice came from below and, observing her concerned looks, rolled his eyes. "I'll be fine, kid," he moaned dismissively. "Once I get used to this body, everything's gonna be just peachy."

"Used to this body?" Leonardo asked, surprised. "You don't have to get _used_ to it, Raph. Can't Donnie or Leatherhead change you back?" Raphael was about to answer, but stopped himself. Closing his mouth and looking blankly past Leonardo, it seemed as though he were seriously considering something for the first time in his life. Leonardo examined him carefully. After a moment, Raphael's eyes dropped down to Allison and stayed there, a strange look overcoming his entire face.

Just as Leonardo thought he may have uncovered the answer to Raphael's hesitance to change back into a turtle, a quick movement from the corner of his eye broke him out of his scrutiny. Instinctually taking a step back, he looked up just as a large figure threw itself down from the top of the space cruiser. As it collided with Raphael, Allison screamed and fell backwards.

"I can still _see_ you," the disfigured creature hissed, digging his nails into Raphael's throat. "Though you try and try and try, I can still see you without my eyes, just as my subjects can catch their prey by their very _scent_." Allison tried to stand to find her laser, but Leonardo called for her to stay down. At the sound of his voice, the creature ceased his attack on Raphael and immediately turned to face Leonardo.

With a wave of nausea, Leonardo saw a blistered face with what looked like sacs of pus for eyes. Either the lips were gone or the teeth were bared in a perpetual snarl. "_You_," the thing said. "The leader. The one who thought it was so simple to be _rid of me_." Before Leonardo knew what was happening, the figure was on his feet and had lunged at him. Leonardo kept him at bay with his katana.

A stench of sulfur and burnt flesh emanated from the creature, but the words and voice were enough of an identification. Pushing him away with his blades, Leonardo bent his knees, ready for battle. "So, Bishop dragged your carcass back from Central Park, just like the scavenger he is."

The Rat King growled and lunged again, causing Allison to cry out. Deflecting the attack, Leonardo called, "Get inside the ship, and take Raph with you! Go!" Knowing that she would have normally objected, Leonardo could only imagine what she and Raphael had gone through as she quickly took Raphael's hands and struggled to get him to his feet, leading him to safety.

"Like rats in a trap," the deranged creature murmured. Crossing past the Rat King, Leonardo replied, "Accurate metaphor." It was clear that, whatever had happened that had given his opponent this new grotesque appearance, it had also done something to make him go even further off the deep end. With an animalistic yell that assailed Leonardo's hearing, the creature lunged again, this time mindless of the swords that stood in his way.

Seeing no other choice but to put this degenerated creation out of its misery once again, Leonardo pierced his sides with the point of his blades. He was shocked when he realized that the being didn't even seem to notice the blow, and instead delivered a solid punch to the turtle's face. Leonardo went sailing backwards, losing his grip on his katana and hitting a wall.

Shaking his head and trying to get his bearings straight, Leonardo quickly made his way back to his feet and tried to think of how to get his swords back. The thought no sooner crossed his mind than he saw the Rat King withdraw the katana from his flesh, letting out another growl.

With a small cry, Leonardo watched as his blades were effortlessly broken in half.

--------------------------------

Michelangelo stopped crawling when he heard Bishop's voice.

His sudden pause caused Casey to bump into him. "Hey, gimme some warning, will ya Mikey? I don't wanna end up with turtle butt in my face." Having a better sense of hearing, April reached over and put a hand over Casey's mouth. In the silence, Casey suddenly heard it, too. Bishop was nearby.

With extra caution, the four of them noiselessly made their way to the source of the voice. They came across another air vent, and Michelangelo moved so that both he and Casey could peer into the room. Neither of them liked what they saw.

Bishop was out of his normal suit and tie, instead wearing his high-tech body armor. He was in the process of suiting up his wrist-mounted laser, speaking to the constant lackey, Baxter Stockman. "What exactly are you trying to say, Dr. Stockman?"

Despite his lack of a face, Stockman was very clearly exasperated. "I'm not _trying_ to say anything. I believe I'm being rather clear, given the facts. The girl was seen in the company of a man dressed as one of your guards. The eyebrow-raiser here is that, upon opening his mouth, he sounded just like that meddlesome turtle."

"And so this turtle is disguised and on the loose. Your serum didn't work on him." Even more aggravated, Stockman clenched a robotic fist. "No, you igno-… no. No, that's not what I'm saying." Getting more impatient by the second, Bishop coldly replied, "Then explain."

Donatello strained to hear what was going on, being furthest away from the grate. Just as Stockman began what was supposed to be a clear explanation, Donatello gasped as his shell cell suddenly vibrated against him. April whirled her head back towards him as he fumbled to answer it, hoping the buzzing hadn't been audible to someone as far away as Bishop and Stockman were.

"Yeah?" Donatello whispered into his communicator in the thinnest voice possible. A vaguely familiar voice called, "Donatello? Don, is that you?" Donatello replied that it was, and the caller seemed relieved. "Donatello, it's Allison."

"Allison?" He struggled to keep his voice in control, not wanting his own relief to get the better of him. "Allison, you're okay! You _are_ okay, right? Where are you?" Noting the whispers and somehow thinking it best that she lower her voice as well, Allison told him that she had picked up Leonardo's shell cell to alert him and the others.

"We've got Raphael in the ship. Leonardo's taking care of… well… let's just say one of Bishop's 'friends.' Donatello, you and the others need to come back and get us out of here _now_. Raphael… he's gotten knocked around a bit and… he's not looking too good. I'm… I'm really worried."

"Relax, Allison," Donatello said comfortingly. "Raph's used to getting knocked around. He can take it." Despite his reassurance, he didn't like the near-sobbing quality of Allison's voice. In response to him, Allison remarked, "Yeah, the _old_ Raphael could take it. I'm not too sure about the _new_ Raphael."

Donatello was about to ask what she meant when Michelangelo suddenly screamed, "Fire in the hole!" He rolled away from the group as Casey pushed back on April and Donatello. Donatello scattered as much as he could just as the vent that Casey and Michelangelo had been peering through evaporated with a loud bang. Remembering the shell cell in his hand, Donatello stuttered, "Uh, how about I get back to you on that?"

Putting the communicator away, he quickly followed as April and the others leapt out of the gaping hole where the duct had been, revealing themselves to Bishop and Stockman. "So, the cavalry's come at last," Bishop said mockingly. His nunchucks whirling about in his hands, Michelangelo exclaimed, "That's right! Prepare to be scalped!" Pausing, Michelangelo looked back at the others and said, "Wait, it's the Indians who do that. What cool things to do the cavalry do?"

"Duck!" Casey yelled, grabbing Michelangelo and flying to the ground. Donatello did the same to April as Bishop shot a steady line of laser blasts at the four of them. "Pity," Bishop told them. "If you had arrived only minutes ago, I could have at least let the freaks live. But given the _disheartening_ news I just received, it seems that none of you have any purpose here anymore."

With a tight grip on the hockey stick he had brought with him, Casey rolled and jumped to his feet besides Bishop, meaning to take him off-guard. "I'll show ya a thing or two about _purpose_, buddy!" He brought his weapon down hard, only to have it deflected by Bishop's upraised arm. Not only was it deflected, but the hook of it flew off, succeeding only in ineffectually hitting against Stockman's metallic torso. Dumbly looking from his wounded weapon to Bishop, Casey asked, "What the heck are ya made outta, anyway? Titanium?"

He received no answer other than a swift hit across the face, sending him flailing back towards where he had come from. "Casey!" April yelled. Donatello held her back, his free hand going into the leather bag he had tied to his belt. "Stay back!" Seeing Donatello's movement, Michelangelo quickly shielded his eyes as Donatello pulled out two dosages of the mercuric fulminate he had procured from Allison's arsenal.

Donatello threw the two spheres down in front of Bishop and Stockman. The friction caused an explosion just big enough to knock the two of them off their feet, but not enough to bother the two turtles and their human comrades. In the thick black smoke that resulted, Donatello told the others, "Back into the pipes! We've got Raph and Allison in the ship, and that's all we came for!"

April helped Casey back up into the duct before climbing up herself. Michelangelo was about to exit before stopping and stating, "Huh, well _that_ was anticlimactic." Donatello merely slapped him in the back of his head, telling him to hurry it up.

By the time the smoke had cleared, Bishop and Stockman were alone in the room.

--------------------------------

"Donatello? Don?"

The abrupt end to their conversation only caused Allison to worry more. Had her call blown Donatello's cover? Was he now in danger? Hating herself for fretting, Allison merely looked down at the shell cell in her hands, wondering how she always managed to screw things up. "Why you always gotta be melodramatic, huh?"

Allison turned around. She was standing at the doorway of a semi-private room within the ship, one with things that seemed like cots. She had laid Raphael on one of these, and he was now sitting upright, rubbing his head and looking at her reproachfully. "Raphael!" Despite his protests, she walked quickly into the room and crouched besides him. "How are you feeling?"

"Hunky-dory, kid," he replied bitterly. "Just like I told ya. Now lemme at that blind maniac and let's get the shell outta here." He tried to stand but stopped when he felt her hand on his chest. "No," she said sternly. "Leonardo's got it under control. You sit here and rest."

"The last time Leo had it 'under control,'" Raphael reminded her, "I was drugged up on Donnie's stupid meds and missed out on all the fun. Now, I'm gonna make it so there's nothin' left 'a the creep for Bishop to salvage for parts." A wide grin emerged, looking far too large for the human face. The expression made Allison shiver.

Noting her apparent discomfort, Raphael softened his voice, but only slightly. "I'm good. Really. Not as thick-skinned as I used to be, but I'm survivin'." Thoroughly unconvinced, Allison peered up at him skeptically. "I'd want you to do more than just _survive_, Raphael."

This made Raphael look at her oddly once more. Allison had noticed the glance when he was speaking with Leonardo, and realized now that she had seen it once more before. Looking down, she suddenly remembered. It was in the laboratory, just before they nearly… just before the surprise attack by the Rat King.

"Right," Raphael muttered, seeming to clear his throat. "Just… quit worryin'. Donnie and the others'll be back soon, and I'll let 'em patch me up so long's you promise to quit playin' Mommy." He stood and tried to leave once again, but Allison grabbed his wrist and kept him from moving. It seemed that he would have pulled away regardless, until she softly spoke his name. "Raphael?"

It seemed almost as though his back straightened at the sound of her voice. Glancing at her over his shoulder, he asked, "What?" Slowly, Allison rose and hoisted herself onto the cot, gradually pulling Raphael to sit besides her. It seemed foolish to want to talk about something so trivial when Leonardo was out fighting a deranged maniac and the others might at this moment be in similar trouble, but she hoped that, if nothing else, it would at least keep Raphael from going out and getting himself even more hurt.

When Raphael finally consented to sitting, he merely looked at Allison guardedly. Trying to work around the brick wall he suddenly felt he needed to build around himself, Allison quietly asked, "Are you… are you happy?"

"Happy?"

"Well, content. With this."

"With what?"

"Being human."

He stared at her blankly for a moment before turning away and replying, "It's got its perks, I guess." Allison asked what sort of "perks" he meant. Raphael seemed reluctant to answer. Finally, he responded, "I'm lighter on my feet. Once I get used to this, I'll probably be a whole lot faster and agile. Not as strong, maybe, but it'll gimme a reason to work on defensive fightin' instead of offensive, just like Splinter's been tryin' to get me to do." He paused for a moment, and the quality of his voice changed slightly when he continued. "I can go to the movies. Go opening night to a big theatre in the middle of Times Square, with all those other people, and pay my fifteen bucks for a ticket and popcorn and just enjoy it. I guess that means I could watch _your_ movie, too. Yeah, just sit there and watch it and laugh about how far away everything in it seems. How that couldn't have really happened. Not to me. Not to some average Joe', sittin' in Times Square with a bucket 'a popcorn in his lap."

Allison noted the faraway look in his eyes. Maybe this hadn't been so trivial after all. She remembered something Donatello had told her about Raphael long ago, when she had first met them all. He had said, _"I guess the thought of being an outcast for the rest of his life pretty much weighs on his mind more than he'd like to admit."_ Never had she ever seen such a clearer example of this. It made her nearly want to cry.

Maybe this was actually… _good_ for him. Maybe he was fated to become human, and increased interaction with the outside world would make him lose some of his edge. She could get him a job, possibly even as a stunt double on lower-budget pictures that didn't look too far back into a person's credentials, and he'd be happy. Surely, his brothers and Splinter would be supportive of this. It's what he wants… it's what he _needs_.

Not wanting to disturb his reverie, Allison gently put a hand on his bare arm. She felt a bit hollow, as Raphael had been the one who inadvertently taught her to be content with who you really are, that even outcasts have strength. And yet, as he slowly turned to look at her hand, she saw a sort of bliss that she would have never associated with Raphael. "It sounds great," she told him softly.

Raphael looked up at her. "Yeah," he replied. "But, ya know… no one goes to the movies by themselves, do they?" Allison tilted her head slightly as she responded that it happened, but wasn't usual. "Well," he continued, "might as well have the whole experience, huh?"

Allison raised an eyebrow, hoping to take this lightly. "Are you asking me out on a date, Raphael?" He laughed, though his lack of green coloring made the bright red blush more apparent than it would have been under normal circumstances. "Not a date. Just a couple 'a friends. A couple 'a normal friends goin' out to watch a normal movie on a normal Friday night."

Looking away, Allison covered her face to suppress a laugh. Even with genetic experimentation, mutations, ninjas, and other assorted nonsense, Raphael was still the average teenage boy. He just never had the chance to express it. She put her hand down and was about to comment on how their age difference would probably need to come into consideration even more now that he actually _looked_ as young as he was… until she saw his face.

He was looking down, an arm wrapped around his abdomen. His eyebrows were knit in what could have either been concentration or pain, Raphael's teeth were suddenly gritting. Concerned, Allison put her hand back on his arm. "Raphael?"

She was shocked when he threw her hand off of him and turned away from her. Standing, she looked down as he gave her his back. That's when Allison's worry came back full-fledged. A strange dark discoloration lined his spinal cord, and the skin seemed to be pulled taught over something.

Taking a step back, Allison feared the worst. Had she been right? Was Raphael about to complete his de-mutation and go from human to normal turtle? She tried to be positive and hope that he was simply going back into his normal form, but the blood-curdling scream he emitted made it hard to be an optimist.

"Raphael!" She stepped towards him again and softly touched his shoulder. He only bucked away from her and screamed at her. "Get outta here! Go!" She tried to object, seeing no reason to run or be afraid _of_ him. Circling him so that she could try to look into his eyes, she saw that he had covered his face with his hands. "Just get _outta_ here, Allison!"

The mention of her name, which he so rarely called her by unless he was overcome by emotion, caused her to take a step back again. It was the hand over his face that made her understand. Whatever he was changing into or out of, he didn't want her to see it. He didn't want her to feel for him.

In tears, she sped out of the room.


	14. Chapter 14

Allison's tears weren't over concern that Raphael may turn into an ordinary turtle.

Instead she was crying because, for once, he had seemed happy. She finally saw a glimpse into the real Raphael. He was just a kid who wanted to go and watch some movies, a kid who wanted to blend in. And now… whatever was happening to him, that dream just dissipated as quickly as it had appeared.

Allison threw herself out of the space cruiser, back into the demolished remains of the uppermost basement levels of Bishop's base. Outside, she heard a sharp cry and a sudden _thud_. For a moment, she thought that this was Raphael hitting the floor, but she quickly remembered about Leonardo and the Rat King.

Jogging around the back of the ship, she saw Leonardo on the ground, trying to get up. The Rat King, his back to her, was slowly approaching him, still feeling in front of him as a testament to his blindness. She caught sight of something shining behind him, and realized that these were shards of a broken blade. Leonardo's katana. Gone.

Thinking quickly, she speedily yet silently made her way to the two hilts lying forgotten on the ground. Picking them up, she saw that Leonardo had managed to turn himself so that he was facing the Rat King, trying to edge away to the left without sound.

The Rat King stopped suddenly. Allison tried extra hard to be silent, hoping to at least sever one of his arms or even his head with what was left of the blade on each hilt. Just as she was only a yard behind him, the Rat King suddenly whirled about, flailing an arm out at her. It caught her in the chest, throwing her clear across the room.

She let out a yelp as she slammed into a wall. The world spun around her, but she willed herself to stay conscious. Her eyelids felt heavy. _Concussion_, she realized. _That_ _was _definitely_ a concussion. _

Seeing the Rat King turn his attention to Allison, Leonardo jumped to his feet. Remembering about the butterfly knives he had taken from Allison's display case, he reached behind him and leapt for his opponent. Seeming to have been engrossed in his new target, the Rat King was slow to respond and only manage to turn just as Leonardo sunk his short blade into his throat. The turtle was appalled by the close contact. He had meant to give the knives to Raphael in case his sais were gone; he hadn't intended on using such a close-range weapon himself.

Leaping away just as the creature attempted to strike, Leonardo observed the wound he had just made. Again, the Rat King seemed to show no outward signs of having felt a thing, but his movements were much slower. This was a good sign. This proved that, whatever Bishop had done to revamp this thing's threshold of pain, he had to sacrifice immortality. Either that, or he simply hadn't been finished playing with his toy yet.

With a whimper that was meant to be a yell, the Rat King threw himself at Leonardo. Knowing precisely what to do, Leonardo sidestepped the creature, jutting out his knife and allowing the Rat King's neck to land upon it as the turtle pivoted away. The lack of blood disturbed Leonardo even more than the sound of the inanimate head rolling on the ground.

He looked down at the headless body, its eternally enraged head sitting besides it as a Halloween lawn decoration might. Yes, even as dejected as it was, Leonardo found that he could still pity the creature. That, again, was another comfort to him. Putting his unfamiliar weapons away, Leonardo murmured, "And so it ends the same way it had before."

"Who ever said this was the end?"

The next series of events occurred far too quickly for Leonardo to make accurate sense of. He looked up and saw Bishop and several of his men standing at the doorway to the former room. Just as he acknowledged the laser mounted on Bishop's wrist, a red blast headed his way. He turned and just managed to realize that he wouldn't be able to completely jump out of the line of fire when he felt a pair of hands on his shell, pushing him out of the way. Landing in a roll, he quickly stood and readied his knives again. A lump formed in his throat when he realized what had happened.

"April!" Casey ran to April's side as she hit the floor, grabbing onto her shoulder. Understanding April's risk to save him, Leonardo narrowed his eyes and glared at Bishop. "How endearing," the man stated darkly. "She'll put her life on the line for a _reptile_. What _are_ girls thinking these days?"

A sharp chain zoomed in from the side, successfully dismantling Bishop's laser. With more disappointment than surprise, Bishop turned to see Michelangelo gripping his kusarigama, an uncharacteristically intense expression on his face. "Bad move, dude," he told Bishop. "Hittin' a lady's never a good idea."

Michelangelo jerked the chain, not expecting Bishop to anticipate the pull and use it to help him fly. The turtle had no time to duck before Bishop's foot made contact with his chest, knocking him away. However, Bishop also had no time to regain his footing before being hit solidly in the stomach by Donatello's bo just after the turtle released more spheres of mercuric fulminate, keeping Bishop's men at bay. "You go messing with our friends," Donatello nearly growled, "and you'd better be willing to mess with _all_ of us."

Bishop grabbed at Donatello's bo, meaning to yank it out of his grasp, when he felt two hands grab him by the shoulders and whip him around. Staring into Casey Jones' face, he heard the fuming man yell, "Yeah, and if ya mess with my girlfriend, then you'd better have funeral plans ready!"

Casey swung at Bishop, but Bishop easily grabbed hold of his fist and twisted his arm. "Stubborn fool," Bishop muttered as he attempted to break the man's arm. He would have succeeded, had he not felt a sudden sting of pain. Looking down, he saw two shuriken jutting out of his chest. His eyes rose to look at Leonardo, who was readying two more throwing stars. "I couldn't think of a better term myself," Leonardo spoke coolly.

Casey managed to break out of Bishop's grip, but Bishop only grabbed a handful of the man's dark hair and pulled him sharply backwards, causing him to collide with both Michelangelo and Donatello. Dodging the pair of shuriken hurled at him, he ran for Leonardo. As the turtle readied his knives, Bishop parried with the enforced gauntlets of his armor. Their strained faces only inches away from one another, Bishop and Leonardo stared one another down.

Quietly impressed by the turtle's strength and determination, Bishop breathed, "I should commend you, Leonardo. This makes the third time that you and your brothers defeated my Slayer. I suppose this either means that my next version needs to be even more superior-" In a backhanded effort, Bishop slammed his shoe down against Leonardo's foot and pushed him sprawling to the ground, wrenching one of his knives out of his grasp. "-or I just have to get rid of you once and for all."

Just as he was about to lunge for the downfallen turtle, a hot laser blast hit his hand, causing him to drop the appropriated weapon. Looking up, he saw that April O'Neil woman with a gun. A quick glance to the semi-conscious girl at her feet told him that she had gotten it off of this girl and, as she was currently a better shot, decided to use it to her advantage.

He was hit again in the chest, and used this energy to drive him into a backwards flip. Bishop quickly saw that his men had either deserted him or had already been dealt with by the turtles. On his feet, he came to a bitter realization. Once again, he was outnumbered and beaten.

Silently cursing the frailty and incompetence of his men, he turned and ran. "Another day then, friends," he said as he hurriedly made his way out. Despite his speed, he felt something wrap itself around his ankles. As he tripped and fell, he felt himself being pulled backwards, and knew that that Michelangelo brat had caught him.

"Like the song goes," Michelangelo said, cautiously stepping up behind Bishop, "no day but today." He was right to be cautious, as Bishop sat up and yanked his legs back, meaning to send Michelangelo flying. Foreseeing this, Michelangelo let go of the hilt of the kusarigama. By the time Bishop realized that a stone pickaxe was sailing towards his heart, it was too late.

"Eyew," Michelangelo flinched. "That had to hurt."

Casey had made his way over to April, who was staring at Bishop's rigid body. "Is that it?" April asked. "Is he-?" Casey let out an embittered laugh as he shook his head and responded, "I wouldn't count on it. We'd probably have to cut off his head and burn the body. Stickin' a clove 'a garlic in his mouth might work, too."

"Can't supply that last bit," Donatello said, helping Leonardo to his feet. "But while you all were busy, I set up detonators throughout the room and as far outside of it as I could throw them. The insanity ends here."

Michelangelo went over to Allison, who was mumbling incoherently to herself. "Then let's get in the air quick, bro," he said as he picked the girl up in his arms. "Looks like our old bud here's gonna need someone to look after her."

The contact with Michelangelo focused her somewhat. "M… Mike?" Michelangelo smiled at her as the group walked back to the ship. "For sure, bud. Raph's in the ship, right? We'll have Donnie give the two of you a look over and-" He was alarmed when Allison cut him off, her eyes flying wildly as she searched for Donatello. Finding him, she pleaded, "Donatello, Raphael's in trouble! Go inside and help him! He… he's mutating again!"

"Mutating?" Donatello blinked at her. "Again?" Before Allison could explain, Donatello sped off into the space cruiser. April looked down, realizing something. "So _that's_ what Stockman meant when he said that the serum somehow accelerated Raphael's mutation rather than reversing it. Whatever he had given Allison to turn her back into a human, he intended to use on Raphael to turn him back into a turtle. Instead…." Shocked, she turned back to Allison. "Allison… what… what's happened to him? He hasn't... hasn't turned into a… a…?"

"A giant, slimy, turtle-munching monster?" Michelangelo finished shrilly. He stopped suddenly, as though his feet were firmly rooted on the floor. "I'm not going anywhere _near_ that ship! Oh Donnie! Donnie! What'll become of him?"

In lieu of Donatello, it was Leonardo's turn to smack Michelangelo in the back of the head. "Calm down, o Monarch of Melodrama. Raph's… uh… not lethal. At least, not when I saw him last." Seeing Allison's impatience to get to the ship, Leonardo helped her out of Michelangelo's arms and kept an arm around her waist to keep her up. "What do you mean by 'mutating again,' Allison? What's happened?"

Rubbing her temple as Leonardo led her to the ship while the others followed, Allison tried to clear her head. She knew that the effects of a concussion could signify something more dangerous if they lasted for more than fifteen minutes… or was that five minutes? Nevertheless, she was determined to speak articulately and not let both her injuries and her emotions take control of her.

"He… started changing. Just… grunting, really. In pain. He was in lots of pain and yelled and parts of his skin started changing color and… he told me to get out. He didn't want me to see him… to see him… like that." As Leonardo helped her up into the spacecraft, she looked at the closed door to the room in which she had left Raphael. Donatello was undoubtedly in there, seeing what he could do. Would the door be closed for any reason other than there being something behind it that the others wouldn't want to see? Feeling the panic well up inside of her, Allison broke away from Leonardo and went for the door.

She was about to pull it open when Michelangelo put his arms around her, keeping her back. "No way, bud! You're not doing anything that'll risk getting you bitten by a wereturtle and turning into that crazy rat again! You stay outta there 'til we get the heads-up from Don-"

Despite Michelangelo's debut at reasonable thinking, Casey pushed past the two of them, unwilling to sit aside quietly until he knew what was happening to his friend. "Raph? Raph, buddy!" He threw the door open and stood at the doorway, even as Leonardo tried to urge him back. Leonardo closed his eyes and looked away. Whatever Raphael had become, he didn't want any of the others to witness it before even being told about the human form that he had defaulted to. Even if Raphael was simply sitting there as the broad-shouldered teenaged boy that Leonardo had seen him as, it would prove to be a huge shock to Casey and the others.

Casey's large body blocked most of the doorway, only adding to the suspense of Allison, Leonardo, April and Michelangelo. Upon hearing a low murmur that sounded like Donatello's voice from within, Allison couldn't stand it anymore. Tearing away from Michelangelo, she pushed past Casey and stepped into the room.

There, lying on a cot, was a sleeping Raphael. The old Raphael. The teenaged mutant ninja turtle Raphael. Donatello was crouched besides him, apparently just finishing a basic check of his vitals. Looking up at Allison with sympathetic eyes, he quietly told her, "Other than lots of minor cuts and tension of some of his muscles that are indicative of a recent experience of intense pain, everything's checking out. He appears normal. Once we're in the air, I'll use some of the medical equipment on this rig and do a more thorough examination."

Allison hardly heard a word he was saying. Stumbling into the room, she sunk to her knees besides Donatello, staring at Raphael. Observing the peaceful slumber, she hardly realized that Donatello was looking her over and telling her that she deserved some medical attention as well, as did April.

It didn't take long for Donatello to see that his words were going unnoticed. Once Allison ascertained that Raphael was all right, she merely stared at him, and it seemed as though she almost went into a sort of catatonia. Though he was worried about her, Donatello merely stood up and left the room. "Come on," he gently told Casey, pulling him out of the room. "Let's leave them alone for a bit until we're on our way." Casey silently obliged, shutting the door behind him.

At the cockpit, April and Donatello readied for departure. As the lights of the space cruiser turned on, the wreckage became all the more visible. "Donnie," April gasped. "Look." Following April's point, Donatello saw what alarmed her. On the ground several feet in front of them was Michelangelo's discarded kusarigama. Bishop was nowhere to be found.

Though he half-expected it, a surge of anger went through Donatello. "Crud," he muttered. Going to the detonator he carried with him, he set the charges to go off in exactly one minute. Whether or not Bishop would escape was of little consequence right now. He had his brother, and he had Allison. There was nothing on this site that he wanted to save. Taking off, Donatello did a final, half-hearted, unsuccessful visual sweep of the grounds for any sign of Bishop.

A few seconds later, as they flew off into the deserted Californian night, they heard the explosives go off.


	15. Chapter 15

With a deep groan, Raphael rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

As his vision became clear, he looked up at his hand. He started for a moment before realizing that there was nothing out of the ordinary. Green, three appendages, and reptilian. Yup, that was his. The thought of being attached to something with five thin fingers was clearly the remnant of a dream.

Or was it? He tried to sit up, but found that his back was incredibly stiff. Looking down, he saw that he was tucked into an unfamiliar bed with unfamiliar black sheets. A sweeping gaze around the room only confused him more, as he was sure he had never seen it before. When he caught sight of a tank on a desk, Raphael realized that he had simply never seen Allison's bedroom during the daytime.

Forcing himself up, Raphael saw that the spot next to him was unoccupied and looked as though it had been undisturbed the entire night. Dimly wondering where the others were, he hobbled over to the tank to observe what was inside. Sure enough, there within the tank was a turtle. It was a large one, with a misshapen shell. Raphael's first thought was that it had went through one too many battles, and he couldn't help but laugh at the thought of a pet turtle experiencing half of the things he had. _But hey, I had just about resigned myself to being this little guy's neighbor, so I guess anything's possible._

"Oh!" Raphael turned around, surprised by the sound. Allison was standing at the doorway, a tray in her hands. The first thing Raphael noticed about her was how… different she looked. Granted, his clearest memories of her as of late were as a rat, but he had never seen her like this before. She was wearing a simple white dress with a pale yellow cardigan. Her hair was up and she was barefoot. She looked so… young. And so… feminine.

"Oh," Raphael echoed, more for the sake of saying something than needing anything to exclaim about. They stared at one another for a few moments, not knowing what else to say. Finally, Allison looked down and continued her way into the room. "April and Casey are showing the guys around LA," she explained, putting the tray down on the night table. "As much of it as they can, at any rate. I told them I'd stay here and look after you."

Raphael dropped his eyes down to the tray and burst out laughing. On it was a bowl, a spoon, some milk, and a box of Honey Nut Cheerios. "You remembered," he commented. She looked at him quizzically before realizing the connection. "Oh, yeah," she laughed, looking down at the cereal. "It was on sale a few weeks after I moved here, so I bought it and it's kinda become my cereal of choice."

Raphael laughed softly again, mostly because he didn't want the awkward silence to creep in. Luckily, Allison remembered something that kept that from happening. "Oh, I made you something!" He followed her with his eyes as she walked towards him and sat at her desk. As she opened her drawer, he asked, "Made me somethin'? Since when?"

"This morning," she replied. "I woke up early and remembered I had some fabric left over…." Finding what she had made him, she pulled it out and offered it to him. Taking it, he saw that it was a red bandanna. Touching his face, he remembered that he had taken his off at Bishop's base the night before. With a smile, he put it on and said, "Thanks. I'll take this over a pair of stupid pants any day."

Allison gave him a small smile before motioning over to the tray she had set down. "You'd better eat something. You might not be a puny human anymore, but I'd rather have you at your best." Raphael didn't move as she turned towards the turtle sitting at her desk. "Time for _you_ to get some food, too, Botticelli. You must be starving."

He stepped back and sat on the bed, watching her unscrew the lid of a jar of dry pellets. Grimacing, Raphael reached for his cereal and started filling his bowl. "Thoroughly revolting," he remarked. Sparing him a glance over her shoulder, Allison smirked, "If you think _this_ is bad, you should've seen the stuff he was forced to eat before I took him in. Poor guy probably thinks he's in heaven right now."

Raphael contemplatively poured milk into his bowl as Allison finished feeding Botticelli. "Kinda sad, isn't it?" Raphael commented lowly. "He's sittin' in a tank all day, thankful just to be fed. Kinda makes me wonder what I got to complain about."

At the expanse of silence, Raphael looked up. Allison had turned to face him completely, and was looking at him with concern in her eyes. Happy that she cared and yet, by habit, annoyed by her worry, Raphael dug into his food. "No worries," he said around a mouthful of cereal. "I know when I'm better off. Happy as a clam, that's me."

Allison stood and slowly advanced towards him. "Raphael," she said quietly. Raphael quickly interrupted her. "Don't start, kid. Yesterday was just a bad nightmare. I'd rather forget it." Sitting besides him, Allison inquired, "_All_ of it?"

Raphael stopped in mid-bite. He wanted to look at Allison, but he knew that looking at her—especially in that dress—would only remind him of what had nearly happened the night before… and of what can't happen. "Yeah," he finally answered. "All of it."

Allison shook her head. "I don't think that's true-" She was sharply cut off by Raphael, who spun around to face her. "Well, think what ya _want_, okay?" Rather than retaliate, which is what her usual response would have been, Allison merely gazed at him steadily before reaching over and embracing him, leaning her head against his shoulder.

Not expecting this, Raphael didn't know what to do. She didn't seem to be crying. He hadn't insulted her or done anything to hurt her feelings. Therefore, he couldn't rightfully comfort her or apologize. Leaning over as much as he could to put his bowl down, Raphael simply waited for some clue as to what to do next.

"I wish you could understand," she whispered. "Just understand the contradictory things going through my mind right now. How happy I was for you last night, that you would be able to go out and have a life of your own, a life that you wanted. How you were just the average sixteen-year-old kid. And at the same time… how relieved I was when you changed back. Because that other Raphael wasn't Raphael at all, you know? It was who you would have been had your life been different. It was still great, but… _this_ is you. This is what you're really meant to be. This is the person who helped change my life."

Instead of relaxing, Raphael only became more and more uncomfortable as she spoke. He didn't want to remember the night before. It tugged at a sad part of him that he didn't want to think about. It was a different sort of sadness than the times that his brothers have been in trouble, or when his shell cycle has gotten wrecked. This was a deeper, more personal sadness. It made him feel selfish. He could feel violent, malicious, and vain. Don't make him feel selfish.

"I didn't do anything for you," he told her, still not moving within her embrace and willing himself not to look at her. "You had the guts to write a movie, to move out to California, and to be yourself. That's somethin' that I can't take credit for."

Allison looked up at him. Staring at his profile, she could see that his jaw was clenched, as though he were holding something back. Did he honestly want to believe that the entire night before was just a nightmare? "Raphael… I'm only saying this because…." She stopped. She knew why she was saying it, but was she really so close to actually admitting it?

Sensing her confliction, Raphael slowly turned his head to look at her. There was something going on in both of them, something that neither of them was used to. It brought a sense of unease to Raphael. If he made the wrong choice, something very bad and irrevocable would happen.

"I'm saying this," Allison finally continued quietly, "because I want you to know how I feel about you." She could feel him tense up, though his face managed to keep any and all reactions at bay. There. She had said it. Did he also expect her to do something about it? Seeing no movement from him whatsoever, she decided that she would have to. Taking a deep breath, she slowly moved into him.

Breaking out of her grasp, Raphael stood up. Allison nearly stumbled onto the spot where he had just been sitting. Looking up at him, she saw that he had given her his shell, a sure sign that he didn't want her to see his face. He usually only ever did that when it exhibited an actual _emotion_.

"I know how you feel," Raphael told her somewhat breathlessly. "I know. But it just ain't gonna happen, so we might as well forget about it." Allison stood up, her hands clenched into fists besides her. He tried to move backwards out of the room, but stopped when he sensed that Allison had countered his movement.

"You said 'we,'" she observed, almost desperately. She had let herself be vulnerable in front of him, if only because he had been the same way the night before and she felt it was only fair. "If you're saying 'we,' then you can't just back out of here without telling me what it is that _you're_ feeling."

"Does it matter?" Raphael asked sharply, spinning around to meet her pleading gaze with his fiery one. "Maybe somethin' coulda happened if I was still some 'puny human.' Not now. Take a good look at me, kid. We can't hold hands comfortably. We can't be seen in public together unless it's Halloween. I don't even have real _lips_ to… to do what you were just gonna do. Okay? I've seen _King Kong_. I've seen _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_. People like me don't get the girl at the end, and if they do, it usually doesn't have a good ending."

Her arms hanging limply at her sides, Allison murmured, "Lots of great movies don't have good endings. It's something that the audience is willing to forgive… so long as the rest of the film is amazing." She warily took a step towards him, lowering her voice to a bare whisper as she gingerly took both of his hands in hers. "Raphael… there's no reason why we can't make an amazing film."

He looked down at her small hands in his much larger ones. Slowly, his gaze rose to meet her eyes. She was being earnest. But why? Did she really believe that he had made such a difference in her life to warrant that look in her eyes? _The idiot_, Raphael thought as he saw her step towards him once again. _She doesn't know what she's gettin' herself into… and I'm tired of warnin' her._

This time, Raphael let himself lean in against her as well. Trying to ignore how long he had actually been wanting to this, he finally allowed her lips to touch his mouth, mildly surprised by how soft her lips were. He found himself wondering what it would have felt like had he still been human, but forced himself to ignore everything else other than what he was actually feeling right now.

At length, they parted. Allison still had a hold of Raphael's hands, and slowly looked down at them. Though she tried to resist it, a light blush came to her cheeks. She thought it was ridiculous, since she was an adult and should be well past the age of being embarrassed over romantic feelings. The blush only intensified, though, when she heard the lock on the front door open.

"Oh!" Allison exclaimed, dropping Raphael's hands as she remembered that she had given April a spare key to her apartment. She turned to look at the partially-open door of the bedroom, and could see Casey come in with numerous bags and packages from various shops down the boulevard.

"Psh." Raphael muttered. Turning to look at him, Allison saw that his face went back to the customary sarcasm at the arrival of the others. "You and your metaphors." He said nothing else as he left the room to meet with his brothers and two friends.  
With a sigh, Allison wryly wondered what exactly she had gotten herself into.

­­­­­­­­­­­----------------------------

Raphael sat contemplatively in the space cruiser as the group traveled home.

"I still don't get why she couldn't come with us," he complained. Leonardo peered up from his new book on the history of martial arts cinema and spared his brother a glance. "Relax, Raph. She's still in the final editing process of her film. As soon as it's over, she said she'll come back and pay us a visit."

"Yeah, but with Bishop's goons-" Raphael protested. He was promptly cut off by Donatello at the controls. "I told you. Even if Bishop is in any condition to exact some half-baked revenge, the new security system I set up at her place won't even let _ants_ come in."

"Why so worked up, bro?" Michelangelo remarked slyly. "You've been acting just as lovesick as ever this whole week. What went on when the two of you were alone in Bishop's labs? Huh? Huh? Huh?"

"Mikey," Raphael barked, annoyed. "Unless you wanna go sky diving without a parachute, you'd be better off keepin' your trap shut." As Michelangelo continued to tease and Raphael's threats became more and more violent, Leonardo offered them both a bemused sideways glance. Despite his silence on the subject, he was just as aware as Michelangelo was that something had happened between Allison and Raphael. The interaction between the two of them for the remainder of the week hadn't been as fraught with tension as it usually was, though they still willingly threw insults as one another. Though he knew better than to ask Raphael about it in front of the others, he expected to have a long conversation with him about it in private.

"I'm going to have to work overtime to pay off my credit card debt," April bemoaned. "I should have known better than to go into every tourist trap I came across." From the seat behind her, Casey groaned, "Hey, I _told_ ya that once my back started hurtin', you were overdoin' it with the shoppin'. But do ya ever listen to me? Nooo."

Between his brothers' and the humans' bickering, Donatello couldn't help but smile as good old New York City came into view. "On the whole," he stated, "despite a couple of road bumps early on, I'd say this was a pretty successful vacation."

"Sure," Raphael criticized. "Easy for _you_ to say. You're not the one who's been hooked up to weird machines on-and-off for a week to make sure your genes don't explode or nuthin'." Rubbing his arm where Donatello had injected him with various stabilizers, he grumbled, "Cliché or not, I'm gonna be needin' a vacation to recover from this vacation."

"Hey, guess what, guys?" April exclaimed after looking at a screen on the control panel. "According to this, the high in New York today is only eighty degrees Fahrenheit! Guess the heat wave's edged off a bit."

"Yahoo!" Michelangelo shouted in joy. "With the heat wave gone, the bad guys shouldn't be as restless and Master Splinter will ease off some on us." As Donatello activated a small whirlpool by the bridge that would gain them entrance to his hidden launch pad and lead them directly into the lair, Leonardo closed his book and said, "I highly doubt that, Mikey. There's probably been a good deal of problems that he needs us to-"

"Hey, come off it, Leo," Raphael countered, stretching his back. "Splinter ain't as unreasonable as all a' that. Even without Case 'n April, I'm sure that he hardly even noticed that we were gone. The quiet was probably such a relief to him that he'll want us to tack on another week to the vacation."

The others murmured in agreement as they began to descend into the lair. Leonardo raised an eye ridge, but said nothing. As they landed into the large room where Donatello had kept their helicopter (which was so small in comparison to the space cruiser that it was actually riding in the cargo area), they saw a rectangle of light at the doorway of the dark room. Approaching, they made out Splinter's silhouette just as the rat reached out for the light switch and revealed himself.

A smile was on the sensei's face as he watched the large space cruiser settle into a landing. Surely, for them to have traded their helicopter for an alien spacecraft was proof that they had a most adventurous holiday indeed. Watching his four sons and their constant human companions pile out, Splinter hoped that they had taken many pictures.

"My sons! How long this week without you seemed!" His voice changing into a slightly more sarcastic tone, he added, "I thought the peace and quiet was going to drive me insane." Raphael looked to his brothers as he remarked, "See? I was _almost_ right."

"Sensei," Leonardo said, stepping up to Splinter and putting his book away in the canvas bag he had with him. "So much has happened this week. Most of it within the first few minutes of our being in California."

"We went to San Francisco!" Donatello broke in. "We just piled into the helicopter one day because we felt like making the trip. It's such a beautiful place, Master Splinter!"

"And the beaches!" Michelangelo gushed. "The waves were kicking, and we swam so far into the Pacific that hardly anyone noticed us. And the fishing was totally awesome, too!"

Splinter laughed at the enthusiasm his students all seemed to exude. "I am most pleased that you enjoyed yourselves, my sons, and that you managed to bring some old friends with you on your journey." At this, Casey and April glanced at one another. "Uh, yeah," Casey remarked. "I guess you could say that we went on a whim."

The turtles all grinning, Splinter felt himself growing in contentment. "And now that you are rested and happy, it should be simple to resume your training." Grins fell, and most of the jaws slackened as he continued. "I have planned today's schedule accordingly, and you may begin as soon as your things are unpacked and your rooms cleaned."

As the sensei turned away, gladness still within his heart, the downfallen turtles looked at one another. Crossing his arms over his chest, Leonardo asked, "So, should I say 'I told you so' before or after we get our stuff unpacked?"

Groaning, the turtles pushed him away as Casey and April stood aside, repressing chuckles.

----------------------------

"Thought you might wanna see this."

Raphael looked up from his weights as Michelangelo dropped a magazine on the bench besides him. "What's this?" Raphael asked, trading the weights in for the magazine. He searched the page until he figured out that it was _Entertainment Weekly_. He didn't see anything that would interest him until his eyes came across a familiar name in bold. Allison Grayson.

As his brother sat down to read the excerpt, Michelangelo crossed his arms over his chest. "Just picked it up today. _The Sewer Dwellers_ premiered in Hollywood last week. It opens all over the country tomorrow. You game?"

Raphael said nothing as he raised his eyes to look at the picture. Allison was standing on a red carpet, laughing at something in response to someone or something behind her. Raphael could hardly recognize her. This dress was red and black, with a kimono-like pattern. Even with this glamorous get-up, she still didn't have a bit of make up. It made her look even more beautiful.

"No. She looks good, though," Raphael commented lightly. "Happy. I would be too, if Donnie told me I'd never mutate into a rat again." When he handed the magazine back to Michelangelo, Michelangelo held his hand up and shook his head. "Naw, keep it. I already read it."

Surprised, as Michelangelo never let someone else touch his magazines without a good deal of begging, Raphael thanked him and set it down by the bench. He was only more surprised when Michelangelo sat besides him. "So," Michelangelo asked, seeming to be serious, "do you think she's really coming back?"

Raphael tried to reproach his brother, but found that the question didn't seem to be aimed at getting under his skin. Continuing with his bicep curls, he answered, "I dunno, Mikey. She's a busy kid. Talented, too. Maybe Cali's the right place for her." Looking at him oddly, Michelangelo asked, "You mean, you're not waiting for her?" Raphael set the weight down again, looking Michelangelo right in the eye.

"I don't wait for no one."

Understanding that Raphael still didn't want to talk about the subject, Michelangelo got up and moved to the television. Raphael watched him go. Once he was sure that Michelangelo had gotten to a program he was interested in and wouldn't pay him anymore mind, Raphael again put the weights down and picked up the magazine. _I'm not gonna wait for something I don't need. And I don't need this. This'll only make things more complicated. Life's complicated enough._

Trying not to concentrate on the fact that he sounded as though he were trying to convince himself of something, Raphael noticed that something had fallen out of the magazine when he picked it up. Thinking it was a subscription advertisement, he stooped over to retrieve it. He was surprised to see that it depicted the red-and-brown teaser poster of _The Sewer Dwellers_. Turning the card over, he realized that it was a ticket to an advanced screening. "Admit One," the ticket pronounced. According to the clock on the wall, the screening started in thirty minutes, in a private theatre in Manhattan. _Hmm,_ he thought. _No harm in seein' if there's a back way in._

Hoping to look casual, Raphael quickly put his weights away and left the lair.

----------------------------

_It _is_ kinda weird, _Raphael admitted.

As he jumped the rooftops in the mild summer night, Raphael pondered over the ticket. It was unlikely that every copy of that week's _Entertainment Weekly_ would have an advanced screening ticket. His only guess would be that Michelangelo had somehow come across it and decided to leave it for him. Still, didn't most ticket giveaways include _two_ tickets? Allison herself had said that it was unusual for someone to go to the theatre alone.

Slowing down as he arrived on the roof of the small theatre, Raphael began to have second thoughts. Looking down into the street, he saw no signs of a crowd getting ready for a New York City premiere. Even if he did, he didn't expect that that would be a big comfort to him at this point.

"I _thought_ I'd find you up here."

Raphael whirled around at the sound of the unexpected voice. Allison was standing on the roof, a shawl draped over her shoulders as a breeze sailed by. "A… Allison!" Raphael sunk his face in his hand as he muttered, "Why do I get the feelin' that I've just been scammed?"

"No scam," Allison told him, taking a step towards him. "I sent April a letter with tickets for all of you to watch _The Sewer Dwellers_ tomorrow. I told her that, if you didn't want to go with them, there'd be an extra ticket for you to come alone tonight to this private screening my friends at this theatre are letting me have. I figured you'd be more likely to come if you didn't think anyone would know you were coming."

Looking away from her, Raphael grumbled, "Great. Here I come expectin' to be all ninja-like and instead end up feeling like a putz." He brought his eyes back to her when she heard her giggle. "Come on," she said quietly, holding her hand out to him.

"Let's get inside. It looks like it might rain."

----------------------------

"_Hands off my roommate, buster!"_

_The character named April turned to see that the new arrival was Irma, her bespectacled roommate. "Irma! What are you doing here?" Having picked up the staff that had been flung out of Donatello's hand by a fierce attack of a mutated monster, Irma took her stand besides her friend. "Mysterious phone call plus growls and screams… usually means that something's just a bit out of the ordinary."_

Raphael stared at the screen as the minor character that Allison portrayed suddenly became the rescuer of the heroine, using her briefly-mentioned self-defense skills against two giant cockroaches. The sound of a motorcycle tore through the small theatre, and the strangely-accurate vigilante character named Casey raced onto the scene, a CGI turtle riding behind him.

How strange it was. A damsel in distress. A rescue by unlikely friends. What started out as a small conflict escalated until the fate of the world was in the hands of this strange motley crew. And yet… it was all so realistic. Raphael found it difficult to imagine that he was actually a part of this on-screen mayhem as he sat in the dark theatre, eating popcorn as Allison curled up against his shoulder.

After nearly two hours, the end credits flashed onto the screen. Allison sat up, stretching her arms as Raphael gaped at the credits. "Well?" Allison asked. "What do you think?" The turtle slowly turned to her, his eyes wide. "I'm thinkin' it's the mind-meltin' blockbuster 'a the summer!" Allison laughed and thanked him. "Man," he continued. "Hangin' around with us makes for some completely warped monster movies. Mikey'll love it!" Looking to her, Raphael lowered his voice as he asked, "Ya got any other projects you workin' on?"

Allison scratched the back of her head and avoided eye contact as she answered, "Sort of. The director wants me to write a sequel, and maybe even start a television series based on the characters. I've got a graphic novelist who's been asking me about something similar."

"Wow," Raphael breathed. "Completely mainstream before the thing even hits theatres. That's awesome." After a brief pause, Raphael looked down and murmured, "I wish ya the best 'a luck."

"Oh, I'm not doing it."

Raphael shot his eyes back up at her. "What? What ya mean, 'not doin' it?' How come?" Allison shrugged, looking away from him. "Oh, I don't know. I guess I just don't want to stay in California anymore. I miss New York. I kinda just wanna work freelance, and not be tied down by just one group of characters I invented. Besides… the longer I work on it, the more fictional it seems. I don't want it to become fictional in my mind. Might as well just let the director do what he wants with it."

Raphael couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Oh man… I think this is how those _Crow_ movies started going downhill." Allison merely shrugged, a half-smile still on her face. Looking at her and deciding that this really was what she wanted, Raphael asked, "So, what are ya gonna do now?"

"Funny you should mention that," she said. "I got a storage unit over here and have already moved out of my apartment. Now all I need is… an actual apartment in New York." Raphael let the silence take over before asking, "Where you staying in the mean time?"

Looking up at him with a wry smile on her face, Allison replied, "I happen to remember a certain green-skinned friend of mine not making an objection when I said I might be forced to crash with him for a while." Raphael let out a breathy laugh. "Awkward City, kid. Awkward City."

"Why?" Allison inquired. "It'll only be for a couple of weeks, at most. I'm sure your brothers wouldn't mind. It's not like I'm a stranger or anything. You know who I am." Raphael slowly turned his head to look at her. "Yeah," he told her quietly. "I know who you are. You're me, minus a shell." As the film reel reached its end and left them alone in the darkness, Raphael leaned down to kiss her.

At that moment both of them knew that they'd never have to be alone again.

END

* * *

Author's Note- Hello everyone, and thanks for making it this far. Though this is much shorter and more linear than "Reflections," I hope that you all enjoyed it as much as you enjoyed its predecessor. For those who haven't read "Reflections," I hope that this was easy to follow and that it managed to entertain you. I'd like to thank all of you for your patience and great reviews, and Mr. Eastman and Mr. Laird for giving me some of the most amazing characters I've ever come across. And, of course, major kudos goes out to Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, and Michelangelo. I put those guys through waaaay too much.

-Starry Oblivion


End file.
